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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718742">Willow-Violet: Year Three</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFineArtOfBoredom/pseuds/TheFineArtOfBoredom'>TheFineArtOfBoredom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Willow-Violet Potter [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne &amp; Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Death, Death Eaters, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Torture, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:21:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>48,787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27718742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFineArtOfBoredom/pseuds/TheFineArtOfBoredom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Exciting prospects lie ahead as the summer begins to come to a close; Willow is now happily enjoying life in her newfound family of four, and the Quidditch World Cup is on the horizon. Along with that, Willow has heard the news that the Triwizard Tournament, a long lost tradition, will be returning to Hogwarts.<br/>But after a close encounter with Death Eaters and a few too many strange visions from Harry, Willow’s once hopeful prospects turn into the dark reality of having to come to the conclusion that she is being targeted - by the Dark Lord himself.<br/>Willow-Violet: Year Three brings to light the darkness in the Wizarding World that had previously gone undiscovered for many years, and, in time, brings rise once more to perhaps the most malicious wizard to have ever lived - Voldemort.</p><p>NOT FULLY EDITED</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Willow-Violet Potter/Fred Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Willow-Violet Potter [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HP/WV Universe</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Remus?”</p><p>              The soft murmur of his name made his eyes flicker open suddenly; he hadn’t even noticed he had fallen asleep. It mustn’t have been that long though, thank goodness; the water was still fairly warm, and his arms were still wrapped tightly around his husband, whose head rested on his chest.</p><p>              “You fell asleep,” Sirius stated, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face as he began mindlessly playing with one of Remus’ hands; taking in the softness of his skin and trying his best to memorise the lines of his palm.</p><p>              “Maybe,” Remus said, placing his head on Sirius’ shoulder. He would have missed it if he blinked; the tear that rolled down Sirius’ cheek, dropping into the water below. “Love?” he questioned, squeezing Sirius just a little tighter and holding him just a little closer. It was a rare sight, Sirius crying, that is. For the most part he was quite stoic, even in the worst of times, like the night he was taken to Azkaban; ripped away from Remus for twelve years, although, at the time, neither knew how long it would be until they saw one another again.</p><p>              “What if – what if they don’t believe me tomorrow?” Sirius asked in almost a whisper, turning his head slightly to look into the comforting eyes of his husband. “I don’t want them to send me back,” he said, in what could only be described as a cry for help. Remus could only imagine what it might have been like for Sirius, locked up in that horrid place for over a decade.</p><p>              “They can’t send you back; not with – not with – him – in their possession,” Remus spoke quietly, running a hand gently over one of Sirius’ arms.</p><p>              “But it’s the Ministry.”</p><p>              “I know,” Remus sighed, “I know. But if I’ve got anything to do with it, you’ll never have to set foot in that place again.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Willow had never been so far down in the Ministry of Magic before. It was quite eerie, if she admitted so herself. The darkness was the worst part, and perhaps maybe the constant echoes that sounded throughout the place with every step that she, Remus and Sirius took; she couldn’t help but take a hold of one of Remus’ hands as they made their way towards the Courtroom.</p><p>              The Courtroom wasn’t much better when they entered; if anything, it was even darker than the place outside, and the stands surrounding the room where the Wizengamot sat created for a very claustrophobic feel. In the middle of the room sat two chairs, both decorated with chains; as she sat down in the stands with Remus, she hoped Sirius, who was now making his way to one of the chairs, wouldn’t have to be chained.</p><p>              “He’ll be alright,” Remus spoke quietly, giving Willow’s hand a quick squeeze, trying to reassure the both of them in some small way.</p><p>              “I hope so,” Willow said, turning her head as the sound of a door opening caught her attention. She shivered, sitting closer to Remus, as two dark hooded figures glided into the room, Peter in both their grasps.</p><p>              “I didn’t do anything!” the dishevelled-looking man shouted desperately as the Dementors forced him into the free chair, the chains locking tight around his wrists and ankles as soon as the Dementors stood back. “Please –!”</p><p>              “Mr. Pettigrew you will speak when spoken to!” a booming voice echoed throughout the room. “Thank you,” the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge said, nodding to the Dementors, “you can go, for the moment.”</p><p>              Willow took in a deep breath as the Dementors left the room, closing the door behind them; she felt as though she couldn’t breathe during those few minutes with them there, and she had been trying with all her might not to faint. She would have absolutely hated to be as close to them as Sirius was; she had only been in such close proximity with them once, on the train to Hogwarts the year prior, and it had been the worst minutes of her life.</p><p>              “Hearing of the thirty-first of July, investigating the murders of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jane Potter, committed on the thirty-first of October nineteen eighty-one. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Court Scribe; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,” Fudge began. Willow could see Peter quivering in his chair as the Minister spoke; Sirius, on the other hand, looked fairly unphased by the event taking place, almost bored, in fact. “Witness to the Defence: Remus John Lupin, Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”</p><p>              Remus let go of Willow’s hand, standing as his name was called, before sitting down again, rocking back and forth ever-so-slightly in an attempt to calm his nerves.</p><p>              “Mr. Black, will you please describe your recollection of events of the thirty-first of October nineteen eighty-one.”</p><p>              “At around eight that night, Remus and I were on our way to visit James and Lily,” Sirius began to recount, taking a deep breath. He looked up briefly at Remus, seeking some sort of comfort, before continuing. “We had visited once the week prior, with Peter, to change who was Secret Keeper. On our way to the Potters’, Remus and I decided to quickly check-in with Peter and see how he was going, maybe even invite him along for the visit. When we arrived at the place he was staying, he wasn’t there, which was unusual, but what was more was there were no signs of a struggle –“</p><p>              “Minister –“</p><p>              “Silence, Mr. Pettigrew! Mr. Black, continue.”</p><p>              “After seeing that the place was empty, Remus and I continued to the Potters’ household and upon our arrival we witnessed the death of Lily.”</p><p>              Willow’s hands clasped over her mouth suddenly to prevent a noise escaping as tears began to well up in her eyes. She didn’t know that they had actually <em>seen </em>her mother being killed. She couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for them.</p><p>              “You say you witnessed Lily Potter’s death?” Fudge questioned.</p><p>              “Yes,” Sirius said, taking another deep breath so as to prevent himself from bursting into tears. “From the nursery window; we saw the light and we saw her – we saw her fall.”</p><p>              “And, after this?”</p><p>              “I entered the house to see the children. I didn’t know if they would be alive or not; thankfully, they were. I took the two of them in my arms and came back outside to Remus. I was handing Willow to him when I saw Peter – he was transformed at the time – hurry down the road, so I gave Harry to Remus as well and told him to get home and afterwards I followed Peter down the road –“</p><p>              “And you saw he cut off his finger to frame you before blowing up the street?”</p><p>              “Yes,” Sirius spoke, voice breaking. He looked towards the ground as he started to play with his hands. He couldn’t decipher exactly what the Minister was thinking; his tone of voice too neutral.</p><p>              “Mr. Pettigrew, do you have anything to say against these claims?”</p><p>              Peter made no noise. Instead, his eyes flickered around the room nervously before he tried to escape from the chains holding him to the chair.</p><p>              “Well, that settles it then,” the Minister sighed. “Peter Pettigrew, as of today you have been sentenced with lifelong imprisonment in Azkaban –“</p><p>              “No! Minister it wasn’t –!”</p><p>              “Silence!” Fudge commanded. “Lifelong imprisonment in Azkaban for the murders of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jane Potter.” The Minister turned to look at Sirius. “All charges against the accused, Sirius Orion Black, cleared. He will receive twelve-thousand Galleons as compensation for his years of imprisonment.”</p><p>              “Only twelve thousand?” Willow questioned, later on that morning as she, Remus and Sirius exited the Ministry. “Dad gets paid that much in three months.”</p><p>              “I couldn’t care less,” Sirius smiled as the family made their way into an alleyway. Willow took hold of a hand from both Remus and Sirius. “Besides, freedom has been a far better gift from the Ministry than that,” he said, before the three apparated. They found themselves on a quiet street, of which Willow recognised well, even though it had been six years since her last visit.</p><p>              “How in the world could anyone live in such a place?” Sirius questioned as he walked, all three still holding hands. “What number is it again?”</p><p>              “Four,” Willow answered. “Just up ahead; the one with the flower garden under the window.”</p><p>              “Horrible houses,” Sirius grumbled as they made their way to the front door. “How does anyone even remember where they live?” he asked, knocking on the door. “It all looks –“ he stopped, the door opening to a tall woman in an apron.</p><p>              “Who’s there?” the gruff voice of a man called. Behind her Aunt Petunia’s shoulder Wiilow could see Uncle Vernon standing in the hallway, newspaper in his hand. “Oh, it’s you.”</p><p>              “Yes, it’s me. What a shame,” Willow said, her eyes rolling before she looked up at Petunia with a friendly smile. “We’re here to pick Harry up. Sorry we didn’t send a message; didn’t know if the Ministry would let him –” she pointed to Sirius, who was now quite nonchalantly smoking a cigarette; Remus looking at him disdainfully as he did so. “– off the hook. Can we come in?”</p><p>              Petunia nodded her head, a wary look on her face. Vernon wouldn’t be too happy about Sirius, especially if he continued what he was doing inside the house. Fortunately, though, Sirius was respectful enough to put the cigarette out before entering the house.</p><p>              “Bedroom’s just upstairs,” Petunia explained. Willow nodded her thanks before making her way up the stairs, Sirius and Remus instead following a nervous Petunia into the living room. The room was not difficult to find; it was the only room visible in the hall with its door closed. Quietly, Willow opened the door, not bothering to knock; she wanted to surprise her brother after all.</p><p>              “Happy Birthday, Potter,” Willow said, arms crossed as she leant against the doorframe. He whipped his head round, absolutely beaming before getting up and rushing over to her, pulling her into a hug a quick hug before letting go and backing away.</p><p>              “Where’s the others?” Harry asked as he began feverishly packing his belongings into his trunk.</p><p>              “Downstairs. Let me help you,” Willow offered as she walked over to the bed, where Harry’s trunk sat. It was a nice bit of teamwork from the two of them, with Harry handing Willow his belongings and her placing them in a fairly orderly fashion in the trunk; within ten minutes they were done and downstairs again, waiting in the hall for Remus and Sirius. Before long, the two entered the hall, Petunia trailing behind them, and after saying their goodbyes, they were off.</p><p>              There was a quick stop at the cottage, to drop Harry’s belongings off before apparating to the Ministry for the second time that day, where Remus and Willow left Sirius and Harry, deciding to bide their time in Hyde Park, feeding the birds in the Serpentine.</p><p>              “You think I could charm one of these geese?” Willow said as a few of the more courageous geese approached her to eat from her hand. It was nearing two hours now, since Remus and Willow left Sirius and Harry at the Ministry. “You know, just for a bit of fun?”</p><p>              “Willow, that’s highly illegal,” Remus stated, throwing a bit of food to the ground in front of him, which caused a small flock of seagulls to crowd near him. “Although, perhaps if I –“</p><p>              “Moony! Look!” Sirius shouted from behind them, having just apparated with Harry from the Ministry. Both Remus and Willow turned their heads to see Sirius excitedly running towards them, a signed paper in his hand. Harry was quite happy too, although decided not to display such emotions so publicly, instead preferring to walk along at a normal pace with a smile on his face.</p><p>              Lunch was had soon after, at the Leaky Cauldron, and only minutes after did the new family of four split up once more; Remus and Willow heading off to buy more books for the both of them and Sirius and Harry going off to get furnishings for Harry’s new bedroom, much like Remus and Willow had done a year and a half prior.</p><p>              That night, Willow went to bed with a smile, and slept much easier than she usually did; Harry was finally in a loving household, Sirius was finally free for good, Remus hadn’t stopped smiling in weeks, and Willow once more had a family of four. All was well.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks had passed since Harry had come to live with Willow, Remus and Sirius, and they had all settled in to the new dynamics of the household fairly quickly. The first few days were admittedly a bit confusing for the lot of them, having barely adjusted to three members in the house, and now having to adjust to four; Harry, of course, perhaps had the worst time adjusting, having to learn and get used to knowing that it was okay to do or say practically whatever without punishment, unlike how he was forced to live at the Dursleys. Willow was a large help in such an area, having taken to sneaking him out of the house in the middle of the night, or engaging in conversations with him and the family that were typically unheard of in the Dursley household. By the end of the first week though, Harry had practically completely become used to his new surroundings, Willow had become used to seeing Harry every day, and Remus and Sirius had adjusted to fathering two instead of one.</p><p>              One thing Willow still hadn’t adjusted to was her usual nightmares though. They had always had a tendency to increase over the holidays, and once more she was pacing up and down the hall, being careful not to step on any of the more audible floorboards, so as to assure that she did not awaken her brother nor her fathers. She had walked more than an hour and was ready to head back to bed for a few more hours, her mind now fairly clear, when she heard slight noises emitting from Harry’s bedroom, quite reminiscent of the sounds Willow made consistently during the night; the sound of blankets falling to the floor and near silent sounds of distress. Either he was trying to get to sleep or having a nightmare; he had been sleeping the whole night through without making a noise though, so Willow concluded it was likely a nightmare.</p><p>              She didn’t entirely want to intrude on Harry, but she did also want to make sure he was alright, so, fairly quietly, she knocked on the door. Being met with no response though, she carefully opened the door, making sure not to let it creak before closing it behind her. Harry looked up, noticing the disturbance; he was sitting up in bed, a hand furiously rubbing the scar on his forehead and a slight grimace on his face.</p><p>              “Nightmare?” Willow said quietly, walking over and sitting on the end of the bed. Harry nodded his head. “Does it usually hurt?” Willow asked. “Your scar, I mean.” Harry shook his head, his eyes soon focusing on a loose string of his blanket. Willow saw a tear roll down his cheek, which prompted her to move a little closer to him.</p><p>              “I saw Voldemort,” he whispered suddenly, the hand on his forehead falling.</p><p>              “You saw – you saw You-Know-Who?” Willow questioned, moving even closer to her brother, intrigued. How could he have seen him?</p><p>              “He was talking to someone,” Harry explained. “I don’t know who it was, but they were talking about a girl – I’m not sure who – they said they wanted to find her, to use her for something. Or, maybe they didn’t, I’m not sure. It was all just a dream, anyway, wasn’t it?”</p><p>              “Course,” Willow said quietly, eyes drifting to look out the window beside Harry’s bed. A shiver came over Willow as the sky was starting to turn a light shade of blue. She strongly suspected what Harry had seen was <em>not </em>just a dream, and she strongly suspected the girl Voldemort had been speaking of was <em>her. </em>It would make sense, after all; she was Harry’s brother and she was connected to so many good people; if Voldemort was to rise to power again someday, putting Willow in a position where she would have to fight against those she cherished would likely come as an asset – but that could ever happen, could it? Voldemort was left weak and powerless since the deaths of her parents, and, granted, he had made attempts to return twice before, yet both had proved fruitless.</p><p>              “You won’t tell anyone, right?” Harry said, suddenly snapping Willow out of her thoughts and back into reality. “Please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want Sirius or Remus to worry or anything.”</p><p>              “Course I won’t tell,” Willow lied before bidding Harry goodnight and heading back to her bedroom before sitting down at her desk, quill in hand and parchment laid down in front of her. She almost felt bad, when she stood up seconds later to call Harry’s owl Hedwig inside from her window before sitting down again and writing the few words she needed to write. True, she was not going to tell Sirius and Remus; as Harry said, he didn’t want them to worry; but she had to tell <em>someone</em>. She trusted George wholeheartedly; no matter what she had told him in the two years they had known one another, he never uttered a word to anyone unless instructed by Willow to do so. And, of course, if her outlandish suspicions ended up becoming true, she needed at least one person to be able to stick beside her.</p><p>              <strong>George,</strong></p><p>
  <strong>              We need to talk, tomorrow, when Harry and I come over for the Cup. I’ll explain more when I get there, promise.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>              Love</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>                             Willow</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>              P.S. Have you tested the Toffees yet? If not, I’ll be more than happy to play lab rat again. I quite enjoyed doing the Canary stuff last year.</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>              “And you’ve got everything you need?”</p><p>              “Yes, Dad, we’ve got everything and if we’ve forgotten something we’ll send an owl,” Willow sighed, rolling her eyes, her arms crossed as she stood quite impatiently in front of the Weasleys’ front door. Harry was inside, having already said goodbye to Sirius.</p><p>              “Just making sure,” Remus said, pulling Willow into a hug. “I’ll see you in –“</p><p>              “Two days,” Willow said with a smile, letting go of Remus. “And I’ll try not to get into too much trouble. Now, I’ll see you later. I love you.” Willow opened the door, waving to Remus and Sirius, who by now was also looking quite impatient with the lengthy goodbye, and after an, “I love you too,” from Remus, Willow closed the door behind her.</p><p>              The Burrow was crowded as per usual, even more so as Willow noticed the presence of Bill, Charlie and Emma, one of which was sitting on one of the sofas by the fireplace while the other two were helping Molly in the kitchen.</p><p>              “The others are upstairs in Ron’s bedroom; you’ll be staying there tonight,” Molly informed with a smile, hurrying over quickly to give Willow a warm hug. Smiling, Willow reciprocated before saying a quick, “Thank you,” to Molly and sprinting up the few flights of stairs to Ron’s bedroom.</p><p>              Harry was already there, sitting on a camping bed beside Ron’s bed, the two talking animatedly about the Chudley Cannons. On the other side of the room, Fred and George were sitting on their own beds, having had to move them with the presence of Charlie and Emma, a camping bed for Willow in between them. The two were also in conversation, about what, Willow did not know; but they were so enthralled with what they were saying that they didn’t take notice of Willow’s presence until she flopped down on the camping bed in between them.</p><p>              “Evening, gentleman,” Willow greeted with a mischievous grin, sitting herself up on the bed.</p><p>              “Why, goodest evenings to you, fine lady,” George said with such a pompous tone that it rivalled Percy, dramatically holding out a hand for Willow to take. Not even seconds later did the two burst into seams of laughter before Willow turned her attention over to Fred, who was looking very interested in one of the many Chudley Cannons posters that Ron had taped up to his walls.</p><p>              “Fred?” she spoke timidly. He had become distant with her again, ever since she and Neville had got together, something Willow had started regretting more recently; she didn’t like getting upwards of two letters a day from him. At least it was no longer three, Willow having, as nicely as possible, expressed her disinterest in receiving so many letters, a few days before.</p><p>              “Hello,” Fred said simply, not bothering to look over at her. The room had become fairly silent after that, the only noise coming from Ron and Harry, who were still talking, although about Quidditch as a whole instead.</p><p>              “I’ll go help Molly in the kitchen then,” Willow said finally, getting off the bed and making her way to the door. As she had been getting off the bed, she had felt a hand lightly touching her shoulder; George didn’t want her to leave, but Willow still figured it was best she did; she didn’t want to disturb Fred’s presence any longer than she needed.</p><p>              Downstairs, Molly was still working in the kitchen, although she didn’t seem to be in the best mood, and Willow noticed the fake wands scattered around the place. She almost smiled; at least her idea that she had sent to the twins over the holidays had worked; although she felt mostly bad, having, in some way, made Molly’s work a little more difficult. So, quietly, she snuck away outside where Bill, Charlie and Emma were located; the boys laughing heartily as their levitated tables crashed into each other, Emma laughing along herself as she held onto Bill’s table tight, trying not to fall.</p><p>              “Joining us, are you, Wills?” Charlie asked as he lowered his table to the ground, an obvious invitation for Willow to get on it herself. She was, admittedly, a little adamant about joining the lot; she was nowhere near worried about injury – she knew the boys would make sure she left fairly unscathed – she was more or less worried about facing Molly if she accidentally wandered outside to see what they were doing. But, on the same hand, she was in need for a bit of fun and a healthy distraction from Fred’s shunning, which was starting to take its toll on her.</p><p>              “Yeah, alright,” Willow said with a hint of a smile, clambering onto the table before feeling herself being levitated into the air. Before long, Willow, too, had joined in with the laughter as Bill and Charlie pinned her and Emma against each other. She laughed even more when Emma ended up falling off her table onto the grass below. They stopped soon after that, much to Willow’s disappointment, mostly because they were sick of hearing Percy shouting out his window for them to keep quiet.</p><p>              “Not in a good mood, is he?” Willow stated as she dropped to the ground, standing by to watch the boys fix the tables up, waiting to help Emma set them.</p><p>              “Worse since he’s been at the Ministry,” Bill said with a slight grimace. “Won’t shut up about how great his job apparently is either. It’s all <em>Mr Crouch </em>this and <em>Mr Crouch </em>that.”</p><p>              “And at the moment,” Charlie began, clearing his throat. “It’s all, <em>be quiet all of you, I must finish my extensive report on cauldron bottoms </em>and blah, blah, blah,” he said in an almost perfect impression of Percy. “Turned into an absolute nutter, he has.”</p><p>              “Has he really gotten that bad?” Willow questioned, wand out as she began setting the table with Emma.</p><p>              “Usually, I’m not one to judge, but I’d argue he’s worse. But maybe that’s only because I’ve had to live with him the last few weeks,” Emma said, Bill and Charlie nodding in silent agreement. Willow sighed; she didn’t particularly approve of Percy’s behaviour. His last year at Hogwarts was an absolute nightmare, amounting to all the stress he’d put on himself, something Willow had tried her very best to prevent him from doing, although it seemed he had fallen into his old ways again.</p><p>              Dinner was perhaps the worst part of Willow’s day. Percy was much worse than Bill and Charlie had described that evening, although they were right, he would not shut up about his job for nothing. She couldn’t talk to George about what she had wanted to; it was far too crowded for such a thing; Harry, Ron and Ginny were at the other end of the tables talking to Hermione, and Fred was still content with ignoring Willow’s presence. Eventually, she resolved herself to listening into the conversation between Bill and Charlie about the treatment of the Ukrainian Ironbelly that was kept in the depths of Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley.</p><p>              For the first time in some time, Willow was actually thankful to go to bed and sleep that night; she went up only minutes after dinner ended, not seeing much of a point hanging around considering those who she wanted to talk to were unavailable. She heard the others enter the room not too long later, after they’d readied themselves for bed, and she considered opening her eyes to say goodnight to the twins, although decided against it and instead focused on falling into a somewhat deep sleep, hoping she would be able to sleep the whole night through.</p><p>              Unfortunately, she ended up waking up not long after midnight to George gently shaking her; she must have been having another nightmare, although she couldn’t remember, having been so startled by George; she could only assume it was about Lockhart again, considering the majority of her nightmares still centred around him.</p><p>              “Sorry,” George apologised as Willow crawled onto his bed. He shifted over slightly, to allow room for the girl to huddle under the blankets beside him.</p><p>              “It’s fine,” Willow spoke quietly, not wanting to accidentally wake anyone else. “I needed to talk to you anyway.”</p><p>              “I know,” George whispered, letting an arm fall over Willow’s shoulders, which led to her cuddling closer to him. “What did you want to tell me?”</p><p>              “Harry had a nightmare the other night,” Willow started quietly, pausing for a moment to make sure all she heard were the sounds of still breathing; she didn’t want to risk Harry knowing that she had lied to him, nor did she want any others hearing what she was going to say. “He said he saw You-Know-Who talking to someone about how they want to find a girl. I know it’s stupid but what if it wasn’t just a nightmare and – well – what if they were talking about me?”</p><p>              George was silent, deep in thought over what Willow had just said.</p><p>              “Like I said it’s –“</p><p>              “Plausible,” George concluded. Willow was sufficiently surprised, yet quite thankful she wasn’t the only one believing what Harry had seen was real. “I mean, it wouldn’t be surprising if You-Know-Who had connected himself to Harry somehow the night your parents died; and if he does want to come back, well, we know he’s definitely tried to already, and you’d be a good asset to them, being closely related to Harry and all.”</p><p>              “So you do believe me then?” Willow questioned, more or less to assure that she <em>definitely </em>wasn’t the only one.</p><p>              “Course I do. It makes sense.”</p><p>              Arguably, to most people, it probably wouldn’t make sense, but Willow couldn’t be bothered arguing. Instead, she sighed contentedly, thankful that she would have at least someone by her side if any developments with this whole Voldemort thing were to be made.</p><p>              “I hate Neville,” Willow said suddenly, her mind having drifted to other pressing thoughts. She might as well talk about them while she had the chance too; who knew how much alone time she and George would get in the next few days.</p><p>              “Hate’s a strong word,” George said, turning slightly to face Willow.</p><p>              “Well, I don’t hate him as such, but I hate what he’s doing. I only got together with him because I was still pining over your brother – I thought maybe being with Neville would be the same as being with Ron, you know?”</p><p>              “I’m assuming you misjudged that one?”</p><p>              “Completely,” Willow spoke bitterly. “He doesn’t leave me alone, and I thought maybe he would only be like that the first few weeks, you know, clingy – god – do you know how many letters he’s sending? Two a day at the very least! It’s a bloody nightmare, and I’ve told him to lay off a bit, but he doesn’t listen.”</p><p>              “Break up with him?” George suggested with a tired yawn.</p><p>              “I couldn’t do that – at least not yet – I don’t know,” Willow sighed. “I mean, if I did I guess Fred would be more willing to not ignore me.”</p><p>              “You shouldn’t do that just to get his attention again,” George said matter-of-factly. “I know it’s shit, what he’s doing, and I know it hurts –“</p><p>              “You can say that again.”</p><p>              “Yeah, well, anyway, you shouldn’t just break up with Neville all because you want Fred to acknowledge you again. It’s his own fault for being an ass.”</p><p>              Neither of the two spoke more after that, Willow too tired to argue, and George already having almost fallen asleep. Carefully, not wanting to disturb George too much, Willow wrapped an arm around his waist tight, too which George pulled her closer, before the both of them fell into a relatively deep sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on, you two, breakfast is almost ready.”</p><p>              Willow awoke quite abruptly, still held tight in George’s arms, who was also beginning to stir with the presence of Molly, who was hurrying around the room, trying to wake the others. Willow yawned as she sat up, disentangling herself from George, her eyes threatening to close again.</p><p>              “’S’time already?” Fred said tiredly, inadvertently waking Willow a bit more. Simply hearing his voice was a virtue to Willow at this point.</p><p>              “Apparently,” Willow said, quite confidently, hoping that in his tired state he would completely forget his jealousy-fuelled grudge. Unfortunately, it did not, as as soon as he’d heard Willow speak, he hurried to get dressed and ended up being the first in the room downstairs.</p><p>              “Just –“ George began quietly rummaging through the bag Willow brought with her for clothes before handing them to her and taking his own from the end of the bed.</p><p>              “What? Ignore him?” Willow spat bitterly. George did not say anything more, instead resigning to dress silently, not wanting to make Willow feel any worse than what she already was. Ron and Harry left the room soon after, leaving the two alone. Both were ready to head downstairs themselves seconds later, but Willow ended up refusing to leave.</p><p>              “Willow, come on,” George said, holding out a hand to help her up. She shook her head in response. “Willow, we’ve got to go. We’ll be late –“</p><p>              But George couldn’t finish his sentence, the silence of the almost empty room being broken by a quiet sob, something Willow had been trying so hard to suppress. She didn’t want to cry or be upset, not now, not over something like this. Instinctively, Willow then stood and wrapped her arms around George, burying her head into his chest, trying her best to stop herself from crying any more, but it was no use; she only cried more. It was when George began to run his fingers through her hair when she finally began to calm down, and not even seconds later was Molly hounding them from downstairs, calling them to breakfast, for otherwise they would be late.</p><p>              “It’s alright,” George whispered, breaking away from Willow and wiping away any stray tears on her face. “You’ll be alright.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Breakfast was over as quick as it had started, and not even a minute later were they off; Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Willow, walking together in a group through the many fields and paddocks to wherever they were going. Willow’s mood had not improved at all since breakfast and, if anything, it had worsened, Fred having made even more of a conscious effort to not even look at Willow when she came downstairs with George.</p><p>              “Where are we going anyway?” Ron asked, about an hour into their walk. The sun was starting to peak over the horizon and the air was slowly beginning to warm. Willow hadn’t even noticed how far they had walked, only now realising that the Burrow was nowhere in sight.</p><p>              “Just up that hill, there,” Arthur said, coming to a stop and pointing to a large hill in the distance. “We’ll just stop here for a minute though, wait for –“</p><p>              “Morning, Potter!” a voice, one quite recognisable, shouted from the distance. Willow turned to her left with a bright smile, feeling happy for the first time that morning, to see Cedric hurrying along the way, a similar smile on his face, his father in tow. Immediately, Willow took off with a run, speeding towards Cedric before excitedly tackling him to the ground, the two friends soon engulfed in peals of laughter.</p><p>              “Good morning, Cedric,” Willow giggled, standing and helping him off the ground. Hand-in-hand they re-joined the group, Willow soon trying to step on Cedric’s toes as they kept walking.</p><p>              “All these yours, Arthur?” Willow heard Cedric’s father say.</p><p>              “All the redheads, except that one,” Arthur replied, pointing to Willow as he did, simultaneously noticing what Willow and Cedric were doing. They had fallen back noticeably from the rest of the group. “Cut it out, you two. We’ll be late,” he scolded. They stopped only briefly to catch up with the others, before, once again, they were back to what they were doing, except Willow was now the one walking backwards while Cedric tried to step on her toes.</p><p>              It took another two hours of walking until they reached the top of the hill, which flew by quite quickly, for Cedric and Willow at least, who were told off more times than they could count, not that it had worked to any degree. The sun had made a clear rise over the horizon now, and just about everyone was out of breath from the long journey. Thankfully, there was no more walking for this particular part of the journey; the families would be travelling by Portkey, which, for them, was an old Muggle shoe. And only seconds after the lot of them grabbed a hold of the shoe, they were transported to what looked to be a large moor; in front of them, all of a sudden, stood two wizards, dressed in some awfully peculiar clothing – a mismatched attempt to appear as Muggles.</p><p>              “I’ll see you later,” Cedric said, pulling Willow into a quick side-hug as Arthur and Cedric’s father, Amos, received the details on where they would be staying from the two poorly dressed wizards. Willow listened to hear where Cedric was staying, before bidding him farewell, waving goodbye as she followed Arthur and the others to a small cottage in the distance.</p><p>              In front of the cottage door stood a man, no older than Arthur, who looked mildly surprised as Willow and the others approached; no doubt he must have thought Arthur was the father of all seven children that stood huddled together in a group behind him.</p><p>              “Morning!” Arthur greeted cheerily, seemingly ignoring the shocked look on the man’s face.</p><p>              “Morning,” the man responded.</p><p>              “Would you be Mr Roberts?” Arthur inquired.</p><p>              “Aye, I would be. And who’re you?”</p><p>              “Weasley – two tents, booked a couple of days ago?”</p><p>              “How are we all supposed to fit in two tents?” Harry asked Willow quietly. “There’s too many of us, isn’t there?”</p><p>              “Undetectable Extension Charms,” Willow replied without a thought. She was about to ask if that was obvious, although stopped herself in time, remembering that Harry, unlike her, had spent the first eleven years of his life with Muggles and not wizards. “They’re placed on the tents so that they look completely unassuming on the outside, but once your inside it’s almost like a small house. Draco and I got Lucius to put one on the tent we had when we were younger; refused to leave it for a week after that because it was like he had our own little house to ourselves,” Willow explained with a smile. “Funnily enough, now that I think about it, we’d left it once after that week and when we went to go back in it had disappeared. Lucius said it must’ve turned invisible; I suppose he probably threw it out though.”</p><p>              “A map of the campsite for you, and your change,” Mr Roberts said to Arthur, handing him a map and three fifty-pence pieces. After a thanks from Arthur, they were off once more, and once they had left through the gate leading out to the expansive campgrounds, Willow couldn’t stop smiling – a stark difference in comparison to her mood that morning; only a few hours from now and they would be up in the stands, in the Minister’s Box no less, watching the Quidditch World Cup, something Willow had missed dearly.</p><p>              After a brief run-in with the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports and former Beater for Wimbourne Wasps and the English National Quidditch Team, Ludo Bagman, the group of seven found their way to their campsite, marked by a wooden sign with the name ‘WEEZLY’ painted onto it. And, finally, once the tents were set up, Arthur allowed the children to head off, as long as they were back in good time to leave for the match. Willow, of course, made straight for Cedric’s campsite.</p><p>              On her way she ran into Seamus and Dean, who were located in a patch of pure green tents filled with decorations, all representing Ireland, who were to be playing today against Bulgaria. She also ran into Oliver, a bit further on, who had graduated in June. He proudly showed off an engagement ring, to which Willow congratulated, and was informed that he had gotten a place as Keeper on Puddlemore United’s reserve team, to which Willow also congratulated before setting off once more.</p><p>              On arrival to the other campsite, she spotted Cedric’s father in the distant by a tent similar to those that Arthur had rented, but before she had the chance to run over, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Turning around, she saw Draco, who had grown significantly taller in the last months. Willow, even though disrupted unexpectedly, could not complain though, and happily resigned to following Draco to the Malfoys’ tent, which, compared to the others, held much more class to it. The inside looked almost exactly the same as the Manor, which almost caused Willow to cry; she hadn’t realised how much she had missed the Manor in the two years she hadn’t been there.</p><p>              Both Narcissa and Lucius greeted Willow joyfully, having not seen her in over a year, and Willow found herself spending her next hour talking to them and catching them up on all that had been happening before, noticing the time, politely dismissing herself from their company and assuring them that they would see each other later, as they too would be sat in the Minister’s Box.</p><p>              Finally, at long last, ten minutes later, Willow reached the Diggorys’ tent with a content sigh. She called out for Cedric, not wanting exactly to enter the tent, as that would be rude, and within seconds he was out and the two were engaged in a very long conversation about Quidditch as they walked around the grounds.</p><p>              “Apparently we won’t actually get to play any games next year,” Cedric said sadly, a while later as the sun began to descend.</p><p>              “For good reason,” Willow said, clasping her hands over her mouth as soon as she had said such a thing. Cedric came to a halt and looked down at Willow with great suspicion.</p><p>              “What’s going on?” he asked, arms crossed, standing in front of Willow. He looked quite intimidating in that moment, and Willow knew she wouldn’t be able to lie her way out of this one, not that she ever could; she was a terrible liar in the most trivial situations.</p><p>              “Well, I heard <em>rumours</em>,” she began, shifting uncomfortably on the spot and holding onto her arm. She hadn’t actually heard rumours – she’d outright heard what she was about to say; she had overheard Percy and Arthur talking about it the night before. “I heard rumours that this year the Ministry wanted to hold another Triwizard Tournament.”</p><p>              Cedric’s eyes quite suddenly widened with a mix of bewilderment and excitement, and a smile going from ear to ear dawned on his face.</p><p>              “You’re kidding?” he said, his voice a slightly higher pitch. Willow couldn’t help but smile herself seeing the boyish excitement come over Cedric as it had; she’d seen him this excited only once, and that was, regrettably, after Cho had said yes to going out with him the year before; it was actually quite refreshing seeing him getting so excited about something that wasn’t her. “The Triwizard Tournament? At Hogwarts?”</p><p>              “The rules have changed a bit though,” Willow said, slightly disappointed. When she was listening to Percy and Arthur before, she, too, was quite excited, especially after imagining what it would be like to win a thousand galleons; it would be enough to get the business with Fred and George up and running well. But, then, Arthur had let slip that he was glad that only those seventeen or older could compete this time round though, after which, Willow scampered off, back up to bed. “Not that they’ll effect you,” Willow quickly added, seeing the excitement begin to fade from Cedric’s face.</p><p>              “What’s changed then?” Cedric asked as they began to walk back to his tent; the sky was now turning into an array of pinks, purples and oranges.</p><p>              “You have to be seventeen to compete,” Willow huffed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat. “And you can’t die anymore.”</p><p>              “Alright, well, the dying thing’s arguably understandable,” Cedric said, quickening his pace; he didn’t want to get Willow in trouble for being late back to the Weasleys’ tents, “but I don’t understand the age thing. I mean, I bet anything if you competed, you’d win; you’re smarter than most of the older kids at school, anyway.”</p><p>              “Most of them?” Willow questioned. “Don’t you mean <em>all </em>of them?”</p><p>              “No,” Cedric said with a mischievous grin as he came to a halt in front of his and his father’s tent. “You’re not as smart as me.”</p><p>              “Not as smart as you my ass,” Willow said crossing her arms, causing Cedric to laugh which, in turn, caused Willow to hit him hard on the arm.</p><p>              “I suggest you get going; you’ll be late otherwise,” Cedric said in amidst his laughing and fending Willow off from further attack. She was about to say something back, but he was right; the sun would be completely below the horizon soon enough. As Willow began to walk away, Cedric waved at her, to which she flipped him off, yet both smiled all the same, and once Willow was relatively out of sight from anyone, she transformed herself into a wolf and sprinted away, back to the Weasleys’ tents.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Really? You just want two tiny little stripes on your cheeks? Oh, come on, where’s your spirit? It’s the World Cup for fuck sake!” Willow said, exasperated as she painted two mealy green and white stripes on George’s cheeks. “I mean, for goodness sake, look at Fred! He looks like he fell into a bucket of paint!” Fred looked over at the mention of his name, and George had to admit, Willow wasn’t far from the truth. Fred had, quite surprisingly, allowed for Willow to paint his whole face white, with the exception of a large green shamrock in the middle.</p><p>              “Well, where’s <em>your </em>spirit, Willow?” George retorted. “You’ve got nothing on your face.”</p><p>              “I’ve got no need to,” Willow said cheekily. “Haven’t you seen my hair? Or have you just been completely blind the past two years?”</p><p>              “Oh, a Bulgaria supporter, are we?” George said, grinning as he stole the paintbrush from Willow’s hand, which was still covered in green paint. He grabbed a hold of her hand to try to prevent her from running away, an action which caused him to be quite thankful that his cheeks were covered in paint, but she slipped from his grasp and, all of a sudden, the two were running around the tent, George feverishly trying to get some of the green paint on Willow.</p><p>              “Settle down, you two,” Arthur warned calmly, folding up his copy of the day’s <em>Daily Prophet </em>and rising from his armchair. “We’ll be needing to head off any minute now.”</p><p>              “Oh, we’re just having a bit of fun, Dad,” George said as he caught up to Willow, one arm grabbing her round the waist and holding her to him as he painted a long green streak on her right arm. “Ha!” he exclaimed in satisfaction as Willow wriggled out of his grip, observing, with much disdain, the paint on her arm.</p><p>              “Ass,” she muttered under her breath, quite fiercely, before glaring at George.</p><p>              “Oh no, I’ve made her angry,” George teased, setting the paintbrush down before making his way over to Willow, holding his arms out, inviting her into a hug, which she promptly refused, instead, with a hint of a malicious grin, sprinting towards him and shoving him to the ground. But, before the two had time to become entangled in a tiff, Arthur was ordering them up from the ground; it was time to leave.</p><p>              A half hour later, Willow and the others were up in the Minister’s Box, the air around them buzzing with excitement and anticipation for the start of the match, and Willow, in that moment, couldn’t help but jump up and down excitedly for a brief moment. And, not long after she, Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys were seated – now, of course, having Bill, Charlie, Percy and Emma joining them, having had arrived at around lunchtime – Draco, Lucius and Narcissa entered the Minister’s Box, Draco sprinting towards Harry and pulling him into a tight embrace as soon as he saw him. Willow couldn’t help but giggle slightly seeing the shocked look on Lucius’ face, which only became more exaggerated when Draco kissed Harry on the lips; he obviously hadn’t known about this relationship. Narcissa, on the other hand, smiled as she sat down in one of the seats behind the group, Lucius sitting beside her and, soon enough, Draco too.</p><p>              Two others arrived in the Minister’s Box; the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, before Ludo Bagman charged in and announced the start of the match, to which the sound of excited applause filled the stadium.</p><p>              Before the match started though, of course, was the introduction of team mascots, and Willow, for the first minutes of this, was quite heavily enamoured with Bulgaria’s mascots; Veela.</p><p>              The lot of them were beautiful; their sky-blue eyes that glistened in the light, their white-gold hair that flowed gracefully down their backs, the paleness and softness of their skin, their perfect hourglass figures. But what was the most beautiful was the dancing; graceful and elegant as if it was no trouble at all, and of course how they smiled so nicely as they spun around, showing off to everyone in the stands.</p><p>              But then, the music came to a stop, and angry shouts began to fill the stadium as the Veelas walked away. Willow blinked and turned her head to the side to see that she, Harry and Ron were all standing close by to the wall of the box; Harry and Willow both ready and willing to leap out and follow them while Ron was frozen in a stance that looked similar to a diver ready to dive.</p><p>              “They’re so beautiful,” Willow whispered breathlessly.</p><p>              “I know,” Harry agreed, a dazed smile on his face.</p><p>              “Yeah, alright, whatever, they’re beautiful, but what about me?” Draco huffed, his arms crossed. Willow almost jumped at his sudden appearance in between the two. Harry, too, jumped and turned quickly to see the almost disdainful look on Draco’s face. Harry could not say anything, only looking slightly ashamed of himself before sitting back down. “You too, Willow,” Draco said with a roll of the eyes, pulling Willow away from the wall and pushing her back onto her seat before sitting back down himself as the Irish mascots entered the stadium.</p><p>              Willow sighed as she crossed her arms, leaning back in her seat. No longer was she feeling the lust she had felt for the Veelas only a few seconds before. On the contrary, she was actually feeling quite jealous of them. No one ever looked at her that way, which, wasn’t surprising to her. She was stuck with red hair, green eyes and an abundance of freckles, which, she admittedly thought was beautiful enough, but nowhere near as nice as the Veelas.</p><p>              “I wish I could look like them,” Willow muttered under her breath.</p><p>              “You already look better than them though,” George said, quite suddenly, without thinking. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was the truth, in his opinion, after all; Willow was arguably the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on, something that had suddenly begun becoming more and more clear to him over the summer; perhaps that would explain why the Veelas had no effect on him.</p><p>              Willow sat up in her seat, yet her arms remained crossed. Her eyes, though, widened ever-so-slightly with surprise, and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. Did George really think that? Willow turned her head ever so slightly to have a look at him; his gaze focused on the leprechauns that were now performing their own number in the stadium. Willow hummed to herself thoughtfully, as her attention turned to the leprechauns, who were now throwing gold around. She couldn’t help but wonder now; did <em>George </em>like her? <em>No</em>, she concluded. <em>He probably said that to make me feel better</em>.</p><p>              But even after coming to such a conclusion in her mind, she could not stop thinking about what he had said, nor could she stop thinking about how he had no reaction whatsoever to the Veelas, so, maybe, he didn’t just say that. Maybe he did actually think she was prettier than them. She already knew that some people had no care whatsoever for the Veelas; Arthur, for example, looked almost bored when they came into the stadium, and Draco seemed quite irritated, although that made perfect sense since Harry had been so enamoured by the creatures. Hermione, too, had no reaction at all, although, to be fair, she didn’t hold much attraction, if not any, to women, from Willow’s observations at least.</p><p>              Oddly enough, Fred also hadn’t reacted to the Veelas. Did <em>he </em>like Willow too? Maybe that’s why he was so jealous; maybe it wasn’t caused because they were friends – George wasn’t jealous of her relationships after all, or if he was, he was very good at hiding it.</p><p>              Quickly though, Willow was snapped out of her thoughts by the uproar of the crowd; the game had started and Ireland had just scored the first goal. Willow hadn’t even noticed the teams fly in she had been so preoccupied with her own mind. Eyes flicking around to each player on the Pitch, she saw who was playing where, and had to admit, there was a pretty good line-up this year on both teams; Troy, Mullet and Moran were Ireland’s Chasers, Connolly and Quigley were the Beaters, Ryan was Keeper and Aidan Lynch was Seeker, and on Bulgaria’s team were Chasers Dimitrov, Ivanova and Levski, Beaters Vulchanov and Volkov, Keeper Zograf and Seeker Viktor Krum.</p><p>              Willow could only fault one player out of the line-ups, and that was Krum. Sure, he was talented enough, but there were plenty of things he could work on, like his lack of playing without strategy. It seemed every few minutes he was using a different tactic, an example being the Wronski Feint he performed which caused a timeout to occur as Lynch was revived; whether he was doing it to show off or to try to prove that he was a better player than he actually was, Willow did not know, but it was quite tasteless, and admittedly it got boring after the first three. It astounded her as to how so many people praised him as the best Seeker in the world when he lacked such simple, well-known skills; Willow was even willing to bet that <em>she </em>was a better player than Krum.</p><p>              For the remainder of the game, Willow decided it best to lean against the wall, mostly, of course, to watch the Veelas when they danced every time Bulgaria scored, which was quite rare, but worth it nonetheless, but it did also get her closer to the action. Two hours longer the game went, with a brief pause in the middle when the leprechauns got into a bit of a tiff with the Veelas, but, in the end, at long last, Ireland came out victors, even though Krum had caught the Snitch, which caused the stadium to go absolutely berserk. Only a half hour later were they all back in their tents, ready to head to sleep before going home the following day.</p><p>              But, Willow, for the life of her, could not fall asleep that night. Her mind was once again swirling with all that had happened that evening, from George’s compliment, to the fact that neither of the twins had been affected by the Veelas, to the potential root of Fred’s jealousy.</p><p>              “Can’t sleep?” Harry whispered from across the room, sitting up in his bed. Willow shook her head, and for a brief moment was quite confused as to how Harry knew she wasn’t asleep, until remembering that, usually, she was always tossing and turning in bed; the fact that she was laying as stiff as a board was a fair indicator of her state of consciousness. “Walk?” Harry questioned. Willow nodded her head before carefully climbing down from her bed – she had decided to bunk with George, who had sadly lost their game of rock, paper, scissors, which meant he was on the lower bunkbed – as quietly as possible, so as to not disturb George. Harry followed only seconds later before the two carefully slipped out of the tent and made their way into the forest.</p><p>              “So?” Harry inquired as they walked through the trees.</p><p>              “Boys,” Willow replied simply, but before she knew it she was in a rant, talking about everything that had been going on, Harry listening quite intently and nodding every once in a while.</p><p>              “Well,” he said, when she finally came to a stop, “what’s your opinion on them all?”</p><p>              “I don’t like Neville,” she began, “and I don’t think I like George, not in that way anyway.”</p><p>              “And Fred?”</p><p>              Willow opened her mouth to answer, but promptly closed it again. How did she feel about Fred? She’d never really thought of it before – well – except that time earlier that year when the two had accidentally kissed on the Quidditch Pitch after Cho had knocked her off her broom. At the moment, she didn’t like him very much, considering the months of ignorance he had shown towards her, but yet, when she thought about it, maybe there <em>was </em>actually something there. She was, for the most part, quite nervous around him, which was <em>not </em>something that had been happening during her first year, and that first night at the Burrow the year before, when she’d seen him less decent than usual; even this morning when he was dressing, she couldn’t help but feel butterflies in her stomach and, yet, she never felt that when she saw anyone else like that. Of course, once upon a time she’d feel that way with Ron, but that was ages ago; nowadays everything was back to what it once was between the two – just friends.</p><p>              “I think so,” Willow concluded. “But I can’t be too sure,” she added quickly, sighing. “Anyway,” she said, changing topics, “did you see Lucius’ face after Draco kissed you?”</p><p>              “Yeah,” Harry said with an almost proud grin. “I thought he would’ve known about us already. His mother did though, didn’t she?”</p><p>              “Course she did; he doesn’t bloody shut up about you so I’m not surprised,” Willow said. “You know he’s part Veela?”</p><p>              “Really?” Harry said, surprised. “You think that’s why he got so upset before then?”</p><p>              “Well, I’d say it’s more because his boyfriend was gawking over a bunch of women instead of his boyfriend like he’s supposed to.”</p><p>              “Excuse you, I find him to be much prettier than those Veelas earlier today.”</p><p>              “Oh, of course you do,” Willow teased, causing Harry to send a glare her way, which lead to Willow starting to laugh. She stopped though, only seconds later when Harry held a finger to his mouth, signalling for her to shush, and she was quite curious as to why at first, but then she heard the sounds of cackling in the distance, followed by a lady screaming. Quietly, Harry and Willow exited the forest, making their way back to the tents, their pace fastening when they saw, in the distance, a group of people donned in black cloaks and masks.</p><p>              “You have to get out of here, Willow,” Harry spoke urgently. He had a bad feeling about her being around, and Willow, thank goodness, shared that same feeling; she shouldn’t be here, not now, not with whoever these people were. “I’ll get everyone up, you just go!”</p><p>              Following his orders, Willow transformed into a wolf and began to run at lightning speed towards the forest as more and more people began to scream, the masked people doubling in numbers.</p><p>              At first, she had thought something had bit her, or that she had nagged her leg on something, when, all of a sudden, only a few metres from the forest a stabbing pain hit the nerves on one of her back legs. But then she let out a howl, as a white-hot burn spread throughout her body before returning to her leg yet doubling in intensity. She had been hit with a curse, and a deadly one at that, and if she had been human at the time it most likely would have killed her. Moments later, she collapsed, the pain in her leg unbearable, although, quite fortunately, she had managed to make it into the forest, the leaves on the ground crunching loudly under her weight as she fell.</p><p>              She had lost all thought or focus, the pain in her leg distracting her from practically anything, which caused her to be taken by surprise when, through the trees, came two familiar redheads. She transformed back to her human form immediately, and somehow the pain managed to be even worse when she looked down and saw the extent of the damage.</p><p>              A good-sized, perfectly circular chunk of flesh on her left shin was missing, and from it, what almost looked like little spider legs spiralled out from it, except, of course, they were not legs, but deep lacerations that had what seemed to be endless amounts of blood pouring from them. She couldn’t help but let out a scream, mostly out of fear that she would never be able to walk again, and reflexively held a hand out to place over the wound, which was quickly pulled away by Charlie, beside whom was George, who quickly and carefully lifted Willow into his arms.</p><p>              “You’ll be alright,” George spoke in a hushed voice, and in that moment, Willow wholeheartedly believed him. She didn’t know what it was, but something in his voice managed to soothe her panicking, which ended up proving to be a useful thing as a few seconds later, Charlie had grabbed a hold of the two and apparated them to the Burrow.</p><p>              Charlie was quick to rush inside and upstairs to wake Molly, during which George laid Willow down on one of the sofas by the fireplace, before he kneeled down beside her, stroking her hair gently with the hand of his that wasn’t covered in blood.</p><p>              “George –“ Willow began.</p><p>              “Shh,” George whispered. “It’s alright,” he comforted, whipping his head round as he heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. Charlie was the first down, followed closely by Molly, who had a worried look on her face and a bottle of Dittany in her hand. And as Molly kneeled beside George and started to drop the Dittany on her leg, Willow couldn’t help but let out pained screams, the liquid burning her as it made contact with her wound, and her skin constricting tightly as it sewed itself back together. In amidst of it all, she felt a hand hold onto one of hers, to which she squeezed tight, hoping that it would relieve her pain, and that she wouldn’t accidentally break George’s fingers in the process.</p><p>              But then, finally, it was as if a cloud had cleared from her mind, and all the pain ceased to exist. Looking down she saw her leg was still covered in blood, as was the sofa, but no longer was it actively bleeding. Now, all that remained was a large scar, and a numbness of her leg, and an overwhelming feel of tiredness. And after Charlie left, and Molly went to talk to Sirius and Remus through the fireplace, George carried Willow up to his bed, then lying beside her and holding her close to him.</p><p>              “I was targeted,” Willow said quietly. “They knew who I was. It had to have been someone at the Ministry, or someone who’s been to the Ministry and sought out the Animagus Registration List because how else would they know it was me?”</p><p>              “I know you want to talk about this now,” George began, wrapping an arm around Willow’s waist and squeezing her slightly, “but you need to rest. Sleep would be even better if you can do that.”</p><p>              For once, Willow actually obliged to what George had told her to do. Granted, she did not sleep for another hour, but at least she rested, and focused – instead of the newer thoughts racing through her mind about how and why she had been cursed – on the feeling of George’s arm wrapped tight around her waist, and the feeling of his body up close against hers.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Lock the door,” Willow ordered as George followed her into an empty compartment. “I don’t want anyone listening in, especially him.” Willow cocked her head slightly, signalling towards Neville who was currently making his way down the corridor. Hastily, George charmed the door, so that it would lock, before sitting down on the opposite seat to Willow.</p><p>              September first had arrived once more, and in the last two weeks of the summer, Willow had put a lot of thought into all that had happened during the Quidditch World Cup, as had George, yet they agreed not to speak about it until they were back at Hogwarts, or at least, on their way there.</p><p>              “Leg’s alright then?” George asked, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed.</p><p>              “Still a bit numb but I can walk again, at least,” Willow replied. She hadn’t been able to walk for the first week after being cursed; the curse had weakened her leg greatly, although in the last week it had begun gaining its strength back, and now, thankfully, she was able to walk fairly alright without assistance, granted she was able to sit down every now and then to rest. “So …”</p><p>              “So,” George sighed, sitting up, “you think you were targeted?”</p><p>              “It would make sense,” Willow said. “Those were Death Eaters, and, what, two days before Harry had that vision –?”</p><p>              “And you say someone specifically left them to send that curse your way?”</p><p>              “Well, you saw yourself how far away I was in comparison to where the Death Eaters were; that wasn’t an accidental misfire, and that curse would have killed me if I hadn’t been transformed at the time. Also, no one knows what I look like in my Animagus form; for that matter, no one really knows I <em>am </em>one; only people that I’ve told.”</p><p>              “Have you got any idea who it could’ve been?”</p><p>              “The only person I could find who it could have been was a man called Bartemius Crouch Jr, he’s the son of that Crouch that Percy keeps going on about. He was ranked fairly well in the Death Eater circle, but was sent to Azkaban with Bellatrix Lestrange, another high-ranking one, and her husband for torturing Neville’s parents. Problem is, he allegedly died not long after being locked up; I even asked Sirius – he was a few cells down from him – so, the leads lost then.”</p><p>              Willow sighed, repositioning herself on the seat so she was now lying down, a hand rested on her forehead and her eyes closed.</p><p>              “I’m giving myself to You-Know-Who,” she said suddenly, opening her eyes and turning her head slightly to see how George would react. A flicker of fear passed over his face before he looked at her with an almost quizzical look.</p><p>              “Why?” he asked, his voice wavering slightly.</p><p>              “Because if I don’t, he’ll kill you all. You know, persuasive tactics and whatnot. At least,” she said, sitting up again, not able to keep still, “if I give myself up as soon as he returns, none of you will have to suffer.” She stood and moved to the other seat to sit beside George before resting a head on his shoulder and taking one of his hands in hers. “I don’t want to lose any of you.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The moment Willow entered the Great Hall that night, after having arrived back at Hogwarts, she was almost tackled to the ground by Draco in an awfully aggressive embrace, obviously very happy to see that she was alright; Harry had told him about what had happened to Willow, and even though he had assured that Willow was alright, quite clearly, Draco had still been fairly anxious about Willow’s condition.</p><p>              “Careful,” Willow warned, feeling her leg almost give out from underneath her. She had to grab a hold of Draco’s waist to prevent her from falling.</p><p>              “Sorry,” he apologised quickly, holding tight onto Willow as he began helping her towards the Slytherin table. “I guess you’re alright then?” he said. “Well, mostly.”</p><p>              “I guess,” Willow said, sitting down as they reached the table. Draco slipped onto the seat beside her, and, not long after that, Professor McGonagall entered the Great Hall with a large group of first years, who were eagerly awaiting their sorting. As it did every year, the Sorting Hat sung a song, and then the sorting begun.</p><p>              “You remember when we were like that?” Willow reminisced as a boy, who looked quite like a drowned rat, sat on the stool to be sorted.</p><p>              “Like what? Small? Cute?” Draco asked, resting his head on his hand.</p><p>              “Innocent,” Willow said. “Filled with the idea that everything will be perfect and happy and – you know – just – blind to all the bad stuff. And it’s all just getting worse, isn’t it? I mean, we already had Death Eaters show up and now I’m being –“</p><p>              “You’re being what?”</p><p>              “Nothing,” Willow spoke quietly, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth. Internally, she cursed herself; once again she was stuck; she couldn’t lie her way out of this one.</p><p>              “Willow, what’s going on?” Draco questioned. Willow looked to him and saw that his eyes were boring into her. She turned back round, her eyes focused on the wood of the table. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes; it was quite terrifying when he did that, piercing into your soul with his eyes, and he always knew when to do it to get the reaction or words he wanted out of you.</p><p>              “I’m being targeted,” Willow said quietly under her breath, looking around quickly to make sure no one had heard her, “by You-Know-Who.”</p><p>              “What –?”</p><p>But Draco could not finish asking his question, as the sorting had now finished, and Dumbledore was welcoming the students, and then opening the feast, and then everyone was eating, and Willow was quite purposefully ignoring Draco, and then Dumbledore was talking again.</p><p>“So!” Dumbledore said, smiling as he looked over all the students. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been expanded to include Screaming Yo-Yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”</p><p>The whole of the Great Hall exploded in uproar with shouts and boos of disappointment and anger. Only few students had a smile on their face, as only few knew why this was the case; Willow looked over at the Hufflepuff Table, to Cedric, the two catching each other’s eyes and smiling. <em>They </em>knew what this was about, as did Draco, who Willow still hadn’t turned round to face yet.</p><p>“This is due,” Dumbledore continued, speaking a tad bit louder than before, “to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”</p><p>Once again, the crowd had an uproar, except this time it was quite positive and energetic. From across the hall, Willow could hear the twins’ excitement; it was so loud, in fact, that Dumbledore commented on it. Willow couldn’t help but feel a bit of pain in her heart though; they weren’t seventeen yet – they wouldn’t be able to compete. And after an explanation of what the Triwizard Tournament was – a competition between Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang – Dumbledore finally reached the pivotal moment where he had to deliver the crushing news to all the students about the age restriction.</p><p>“Eagar though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said, “the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.”</p><p>As Dumbledore announced when the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would arrive – sometime in October – the twins made their complaints loud and clear and, seeing this as a good excuse to avoid elaborating to Draco any further than what she had said already, she dashed across the hall to the Gryffindor table and slipped onto the seat between the twins, to quiet them down to some degree.</p><p>“It’s pathetic,” George huffed, gesturing wildly. “We turn seventeen in April!”</p><p>“You know, I can’t compete either,” Willow sympathised, placing a hand on George’s shoulder.</p><p>“It’s bloody unfair! I mean, think of what we could do with a thousand galleons!” Fred groaned.</p><p>“I know,” Willow said. A hint of a smile dawned on her face as Fred turned to look at her. “We would have enough money for an actual shop then, and, of course, more product resources.” She kept looking at Fred, waiting for a response, although, unfortunately, he once again remembered his want to ignore her, so, instead, he stood from the table and began following the other Gryffindors, who were leaving to head to bed, and, once again, Willow was left frowning. Briefly, she looked over at George, who’s face flickered for a moment with what seemed to be anger, before she stood up herself and made her way out of the hall, with all intentions set on getting to bed. To her unfortunate luck though, Neville stopped her in one of the corridors, surprising her greatly with quite a forceful kiss; she had to force herself not to break the happy façade she put on whenever Neville came around, in that moment, considering the way he had kissed her so forcefully and unexpectedly caused her to remember quite vividly that Friday in the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, when Lockhart had also forced himself onto her.</p><p>“Evening,” Willow greeted quite stiffly, trying all she could to not convey any sense of panic, because if she did she would find herself having to explain all that had happened to her in her first year, and Neville was one of the last people she wanted knowing about that.</p><p>“I heard about what happened at the World Cup. You didn’t get hurt or anything did you?” Neville questioned hastily.</p><p>“No,” Willow lied, carefully moving her robe so it completely covered her newest scar. “Anyway,” she said, “what do you want?”</p><p>“I was just wondering, because we haven’t seen each other all summer, if you wanted to stay with me tonight?” Neville explained. They had slept in the same bed only once before, about two or so weeks before Willow’s second-year ended, and it was arguably the worst night of sleep Willow had ever had; she hadn’t slept at all for that matter. The whole night Neville had clung onto her; she had no room to move or get up to walk around in case she needed to clear her head – that whole night had been a nightmare in itself.</p><p>“Maybe not tonight, Neville,” Willow rejected as kindly as she could. Looking around, she searched for a reasonable excuse to tell him, and that was when she saw Draco approaching in the distance. “I’ve got to talk to Draco about something, anyway,” she said quite loudly, making sure that Draco had heard her. She knew now, there was no way she could go about <em>not </em>elaborating to Draco on what she had said at the start of dinner, but she much preferred that than having to endure another night with Neville like that. “I’m really sorry,” she apologised. “I’ll see you tomorrow though.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tomorrow came, but Willow did not see Neville; she felt a little bad, purposefully avoiding him as she did, but she couldn’t stop herself from doing such a thing. She thought that maybe, by spending such minimal amounts of time with him, he would figure out that Willow wasn’t the best person ever to be in a relationship with, therefore, he would break up with her; but after a week of doing such a thing, Willow came to realise that, even if she went so long not seeing him, he would not be deterred, much to her disappointment.</p><p>              After said week of avoidance, one morning at breakfast Willow decided she would sit with Neville at the Gryffindor table, hoping that maybe granting him this inkling of affection would keep him at bay, although what happened was the complete opposite. The whole time she was there, he was holding on tight to one of her hands, which became increasingly uncomfortable as Willow’s hand started to sweat, and when she tried to let go, he seemed to just hold on tighter. She knew whatever he was doing wasn’t intentional; he’d never been in a relationship before – for that matter, he barely had any proper friends – so it wasn’t entirely his fault he didn’t know how to behave properly, but that fact was becoming less and less important to Willow as her comfortability decreased rapidly. Fortunately though, nearing the tail-end of breakfast, Cedric had come over to take Willow outside, and in that moment, he was like her knight in shining armour.</p><p>              “Thank you,” she thanked once they were out of the Great Hall and on the way to the Entrance Hall to leave the castle. Cedric had asked her to come out to fly with him, considering the both of them were getting fairly bored not being able to practice or play Quidditch.</p><p>              “You looked uncomfortable,” Cedric said. “I wasn’t going to ask you out until after, but I couldn’t sit there and watch that. How could he not see that you weren’t feeling great?”</p><p>              “I don’t know,” Willow replied honestly with a sigh as she and Cedric walked out the doors of the castle. It was obvious that Willow looked uncomfortable; usually Willow was quite alright at hiding her feelings but even Cedric, who Willow regarded as perhaps one of the most unobservant creatures of all time – though she loved him nonetheless – had noticed the discomfort on Willow’s face. “I think it’s just because he’s never really had any friends or anything; he’s not sure what to do.”</p><p>              “Yeah, but that still doesn’t excuse his behaviour, and knowing you you’ve probably told him to lay off a bit.”</p><p>              “I avoided him for a whole week.”</p><p>              “Exactly,” Cedric said coming to a halt in front of the broom shed. The two of them grabbed their brooms and flew onto the Pitch and Willow couldn’t help but smile a little; she hadn’t realised just how much she had missed flying, and after having been at the World Cup, she had been absolutely dying to get back on a broom. She had also greatly missed flying with Cedric. In her opinion, he was the best person to fly around or practice with as not only was he highly skilled but he was always willing to talk about practically anything, whether serious or not. Flying with Cedric was also one of the only things the two could do to spend time with one another, as Cedric was usually spending time with Cho or his other friends, much like how Willow spent most of her waking hours with George, Harry, Ron and Hermione, or Remus.</p><p>              “You think we should get the Quaffle out? Throw it around a bit?” Cedric asked, hovering mid-air in the middle of the pitch.</p><p>              “Won’t we get in trouble?” Willow said, hovering beside Cedric. “Technically speaking, we shouldn’t even be out here at the moment.”</p><p>              Willow turned to Cedric, waiting for a response, although, he simply smirked and pulled a note from his pocket before handing it to Willow, who promptly unfolded it, to which it read:</p><p>
  <strong>I hereby give permission for Cedric Diggory and Willow-Violet Potter to practice their flying, and to extension, Quidditch. If any issues are found with such permissions, I humbly request you meet with me in my office.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Signed</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>            Professor R. J. Lupin</strong>
</p><p>“When did you do this?” Willow asked, handing the note back as the two began making their way towards the ground.</p><p>“This morning. I had to see him up at the staff table, and he didn’t even get there until halfway through breakfast,” Cedric explained, the two now back on the ground and on their way back to the broom shed to pick up a Quaffle.</p><p>“He’s not a morning person,” Willow giggled. She of all people would know; on a usual day, Remus would refuse to get out of bed until midday, and, if she was being honest, she was quite surprised that Remus was able to get out of bed so early now, considering he had just had a good two months of not doing such a thing.</p><p>Willow and Cedric were in and out of the broom shed within five minutes, and back up in the air, throwing the Quaffle around to one another. After one throw, Willow accidentally hit Cedric in the face and the two had to take a quick break while they waited for the blood to stop pouring from Cedric’s nose.</p><p>They were out the whole day, missing lunch because, frankly, they had forgotten about it. Only once were they interrupted at around four in the afternoon; Madam Hooch must have heard about them being on the pitch and likely had the intentions of giving them a detention each, although the note Cedric had with him from Remus came in handy, and after reading it she left them alone, only having told them to be careful not to injure themselves or the pitch in any way.</p><p>Considering Remus had quite cleverly not put any dates on the note, Willow and Cedric were using it practically every single day; almost every afternoon, after lessons had ended, and every Saturday the two were out, throwing around the Quaffle, sometimes even taking the Snitch out to let it go and catch it, seeing who could get it first. One day, though, at the start of October, Madam Hooch had beat them to the pitch and expressly forbade the two from playing on the pitch any longer.</p><p>“The other students aren’t even close to arriving yet!” Cedric complained as the two entered the castle, earlier than expected, that afternoon.</p><p>“Well, they could be – maybe they’ll just surprise us,” Willow said, coming to a halt as soon as they walked into the Entrance Hall. Neville was standing to one side of the hall, by the doors of the Great Hall. Cedric looked at Willow, eyebrows slightly furrowed, confused as to why she had suddenly stopped when he looked over himself and saw Neville standing by the doors. Silently, the two came to an agreement that, as Willow would run up the grand staircase to make her way to Remus’ office, Cedric would keep Neville distracted, and so he did.</p><p>On the way up to Remus’ office, Willow, once again, couldn’t help but feel bad about her treatment of Neville over the last month; in all honesty she would have loved to spend more time with him, but, whenever she did she would always end up feeling uncomfortable in some way or another, or she would be reminded of her former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and he was the last person Willow wanted to think about when she was in a relationship.</p><p>It didn’t take long for Willow to reach Remus’ office, and when she entered he was committing to his usual afternoon routine; sitting at his desk, pushing up his reading glasses every so often as he read through the mountains of students’ homework, and being so invested in what he was doing, he hadn’t even noticed Willow’s presence in the room until she was sitting in front of him.</p><p>“You’re back early,” Remus said, a smile on his face as he put down the parchment he was reading and took off his glasses, placing them on the desk. “Note not work?”</p><p>“Hooch refused to let us on. Said she wants to keep the pitch in good condition for the foreign students,” Willow explained, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.</p><p>“That’s odd. They aren’t supposed to arrive until the thirtieth,” Remus remarked before, quite suddenly, going a little red in the face; he wasn’t supposed to tell Willow that. “Forget I said that.”</p><p>Willow couldn’t help but laugh a little at Remus; the two of them were just as bad at lying as each other.</p><p>“Is there anything else I’m not allowed to know about the Tournament?” Willow asked, hoping that it would catch him off guard.</p><p>“Unfortunately, no. I wasn’t told any more about anything that’s happening, and for good reason with someone as nosy as you hanging about,” Remus grinned playfully as Willow’s smile faded into a look of offence.</p><p>“I’m not nosy!” she huffed, sitting up in her chair. The two stared at one another, Willow waiting for a response although Remus made no sound, instead, he just kept smiling; he was waiting for Willow to admit it herself. “Alright, so, maybe I am a bit but that doesn’t mean I don’t tell anyone.” Once again, Remus simply continued to smile, almost knowingly at her, and, quite suddenly, Willow’s face dropped and her eyes widened in realisation. “How did you know I’d already heard about it?”</p><p>“Well, it was interesting to hear Cedric telling his friends all about it a half hour before Dumbledore announced it,” Remus explained. “When did you tell him, anyway?”</p><p>“At the World Cup, before –“ Willow stopped, and focused her eyes on the quill laid on the desk by the inkpot. Quite suddenly, she was thinking about what she had told George and Draco, who had thankfully not said a word to Harry, thus far, and she wondered, for a moment, if she should tell Remus. Theoretically speaking, it would probably be best if she did, after all, he would be able to offer much more protection, if necessary, and an adult on Willow’s side, especially one so close to her, would be good to have. But, then again, she would be breaking Harry’s promise not to tell Remus and Sirius. Although, that being said, it was fairly important information –</p><p>“Willow?” she was snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of her name, and that was when she noticed that Remus was holding one of her hands and that her cheeks had become wet; she’d been crying, and no wonder, with all that was going on in her head in that moment.</p><p>“I’m being targeted by You-Know-Who,” Willow whispered in admittance, having made a decision on what to do. Willow completely expected for him to shout at her or give her one of his long talks about how she should have told him sooner, or possibly even not believe her, but, to Willow’s surprise, he did none of these things – quite the opposite in fact.</p><p>For a good hour or so, Remus was asking Willow questions about the details of Harry’s vision and <em>everything </em>that had happened at the Quidditch World Cup, especially the details of what happened to Willow.</p><p>“So that’s why you’ve been so interested in knowing who the Death Eaters were,” Remus realised, after he had finished squeezing every bit of information out of Willow as possible. She was no longer crying now. On the contrary, she was actually feeling quite good about having told Remus, although she knew that wouldn’t last long, because Harry was sure to find out within the next week of what she had done. “Have you found any leads?”</p><p>“The closest I could find was Crouch’s son – you know, one of the men running this whole Triwizard thing – not the son, I mean – whatever – anyway –“</p><p>“He’s dead,” Remus stated. “You do know that, don’t you?”</p><p>“But is he really?” Willow questioned, rising from her chair and starting to pace. “See, George and I did some more looking into it and, by coincidence, his mother died around that time, if not the same day, and if I know anything about mothers it’s that most of them would do anything for their children –“</p><p>“Willow, that’s a bit of a stretch –“</p><p>“I know, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, and I’m doubting it myself in all honesty because of how insane it is but, it isn’t entirely impossible that his mother might have made a bit of Polyjuice Potion, and because she was already about to die anyway – and he was so sick too – well, it’s not <em>entirely </em>out of the realm of possibility.”</p><p>“I suppose it isn’t,” Remus said, “and in this scenario I suppose it’s best to think that there’s a chance he’s still alive, in which case, I think it’s about time I taught you and Harry a few, let’s say, extracurricular things.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Furious was an understatement to how Harry was feeling the following afternoon. Livid was more of an appropriate descriptor, but, even then, Willow felt that was too little of a word.</p><p>              The two had just left Remus’ office, having been taught the three unforgiveable curses and their effects, along with learning, to some degree, how to break an Imperius curse, and as soon as Harry had set foot in the office, he knew what this was about – he knew what Willow had done. He knew that Willow had broken her promise, and once they had left the office, he was damn lucky that no one was in the corridor at the time, otherwise he and Willow would have had quite the spectacle as the two started shouting back-and-forth.</p><p>              “You promised you wouldn’t say anything!” Harry shouted furiously. He thought he could trust his sister, although as it turned out, he was wrong.</p><p>              “Well, I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do! He’s trying to go after me –“</p><p>              “Yeah, well, he’s been going after me for thirteen years, hasn’t he?”</p><p>              Willow huffed and began to pace angrily. Harry was used to this sort of thing, Voldemort trying to get him, Willow wasn’t. Plus, in her opinion anyway, it was better to tell someone what was going on, especially considering how dark and potentially dangerous the situation was.</p><p>              “I’m going,” Harry said suddenly, turning away from Willow and beginning to walk away. “Thanks for nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>One day passed, and Harry had gone and followed Fred’s lead; completely ignoring and avoiding Willow every single moment she was around. Soon enough, a day became two, and then three, and before long a week had gone by and he still refused to speak to her, and then that became two weeks, which turned into three. That day in particular, exactly three weeks after Harry and Willow’s argument, the announcements came out that the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students would be arriving in a week’s time, on the thirtieth. A few days after that, the castle went under a deep clean and then, finally, the day of the arrivals arrived.</p><p>              It seemed that every student was outside in the courtyard at the front of the castle by the time Willow found her way outside; she would have been one of the first outside although she realised just how cold it was and decided it best to run back down to her dormitory to put on the slightly oversized jumper Remus had knitted her the previous Christmas.</p><p>              The students were scheduled to arrive at around six in the evening, and only two minutes remained until that time, and because of how crowded the courtyard had become, it took Willow around half that time to squeeze through the crowd and find the twins, but, at long last, she found them both hanging round the front of the crowd.</p><p>              “I thought you wouldn’t make it,” George admitted as the girl squeezed in between him and Fred.</p><p>              “I thought I wouldn’t make it either,” Willow admitted. “Hello, Fred,” she said, looking up at Fred with a hopeful smile, in an attempt to strike up a conversation with the sixth-year. Once again though, just as it had been for the last five months, her attempt had failed. Although, Fred had looked down at her with a hint of a smile and looked as though he had been about to speak, so perhaps he was beginning to miss Willow to some degree.</p><p>              “Look!” George exclaimed, lightly hitting Willow on the shoulder with the back of his hand and pointing up to the sky. Up in the distance was some sort of large, flying vehicle, being pulled by what looked like large, winged horses, and as the object came closer, Willow could see that it was a gigantic carriage being pulled by a dozen Abraxan. Quickly, students backed up a bit, to give room to the carriage, which was hurtling lower and lower to the ground with great speed, before it practically crashed to the ground.</p><p>              The logo on the side of the door revealed that the people who had just arrived were from Beauxbatons, a fact soon confirmed when a boy in pale blue robes stepped out to keep the door open for the others in the carriage, the first being a very, very tall woman that Willow recognised as the Headmistress of the school – Madame Maxime. Following her out of the carriage, six girls and five more boys came out, and very soon Madame Maxime and Dumbledore were having a conversation about the Abraxan and what care they needed.</p><p>              “You think Durmstrang’ll get here like that too?” George questioned, looking quite amazed at the spectacle of seeing such a carriage come out of the sky.</p><p>              Willow shook her head and said, “They’ll be coming by ship. I’ve read all about the different magical methods of transport and who uses them where. Narcissa made me, and at first I thought it was going to be quite boring but it ended up being quite fascinating, to me at least. Draco didn’t like it so much.”</p><p>              Sure enough, seconds later, far in the distance around the area the lake was located, a mast began emerging from the water, followed by a few sails, followed by a whole ship. It took no more than five minutes for the Durmstrang students to walk up to the castle, and the moment they did what seemed like the whole of the student body erupted into excited murmurs as, standing before them, was none other than Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian National Team’s Seeker. This did not come as a surprise to Willow though; she’d known for quite some time that Krum was still attending school. And as soon as the Durmstrang students and their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, entered the castle, the Hogwarts students all filed back inside for the feast.</p><p>              Willow decided to sit by George that evening, partly in hopes to get the attention of Harry and Fred, but also to give her an excuse to look at the Beauxbatons students. They were all quite pretty, and the way they held themselves quite highly, snobby as most would perceive them, although Willow thought their elegance was admirable. One student in particular, though, was quick to catch Willow’s attention, and Willow was quick to note that she, like Draco, was part-Veela, and it didn’t take long for Willow to be absolutely charmed.</p><p>              Around halfway through the feast, said student approached the Gryffindor table, asking if they were going to eat bouillabaisse that had been made for the special occasion to which Willow replied, in perfect French, “Non, Mademoiselle, nous en avons tous fini avec ça.” The girl, who now had the bouillabaisse held in her hands, looked shocked, surprised that someone such as Willow could speak her language.</p><p>              “Vous pouvez parler français?” she asked, intrigued.</p><p>              “Oui mademoiselle. J'ai appris à faire très jeune,” Willow replied with a smile. “What’s your name?”</p><p>              “Fleur Delacour,” the Beauxbatons student replied; Willow could see she was getting quite excited about the prospect of knowing a student who knew both French and English.</p><p>              “Willow,” Willow introduced, still smiling politely. “Mon ami là-bas avec les Slytherins, il parle aussi français. Son nom est Draco Malfoy. Il est en partie Veela, comme toi,” Willow explained, pointing to Draco, who was in conversation with Viktor Krum. Fleur looked over and nodded.</p><p>              “Yes, I can see it. ‘Iz grandmozer per’aps, no?” Fleur questioned.</p><p>              “Yes. On his father’s side,” Willow said. She waved at Draco, the boy having noticed the two girls staring at him, before Fleur turned to look at Willow again.</p><p>              “I ‘ope you and I can become friends while I am here,” she said.</p><p>              “I’m sure we will,” Willow smiled excitedly. “Au revoir, Mademoiselle Delacour.”</p><p>              “Au revoir, Willow.” And she turned and walked back to the Ravenclaw table, bouillabaisse still in her hands.</p><p>              Willow continued to smile as she focused her attention back on the meal in front of her, but as she was about to eat another mouthful, she noticed someone staring quite intently at her in her peripheral vision, and turning, she saw that George was looking at her, eyes slightly wider than usual and his mouth slightly agape.</p><p>              “What?” Willow questioned, confused, having completely forgotten the string of French that had left her mouth only moments ago.</p><p>              “You never said you could speak French!”</p><p>              “Oh, right, that,” Willow said. “All Purebloods know how to, high-status and all that,” she explained, before noticing George’s expression fall slightly, and suddenly she remembered that not <em>all </em>Purebloods knew how to speak two languages, and not <em>all </em>Purebloods had a high-standing in society. “I’m sorry, I should have remembered,” Willow apologised, clasping her hands over her mouth.</p><p>              “It’s alright. It’s just like when we forget Harry hasn’t grown up around magic. It’s normal to forget things like that,” George dismissed, but Willow could tell what she had said was still hurting him to some degree.</p><p>              “No, it’s not alright. It’s different,” Willow spoke quietly. Her eyes were beginning to water, and she no longer felt hungry as she stared down at her plate. She felt absolutely horrible for what she had said. She <em>should have </em>remembered. Perhaps if she had thought about it more maybe the words wouldn’t have slipped from her mouth.</p><p>              “Hey, Will, it’s alright, honestly,” George said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, alright? You didn’t mean anything bad by it; it was just a simple moment of forgetfulness – a mistake. It’s natural for that to happen sometimes. I’m honestly surprised something like that hasn’t happened sooner.”</p><p>              “But it has,” Willow admitted. “Before I met you all I thought you were all terrible, especially after Lucius and your dad got into that fight in Flourish and Blotts.”</p><p>              She didn’t understand how or why, but what Willow had said somehow caused George to laugh.</p><p>              “Will you listen to yourself?” he said with a smile, shaking his head. “<em>Before </em>we met. <em>Before</em>, Willow. I felt the exact same way about you, especially after that look you gave us all. Couldn’t stop talking bad about you to Fred behind your back. But then you approached us on the train and, well, turns out you aren’t as bad as we thought.”</p><p>              “Yeah, well, try to say that to Fred,” Willow said bitterly, wiping the tears from her face. George sighed and turned to look at Fred, who was sitting up by Harry, a few people down.</p><p>              “Look, he doesn’t hate you,” George said quietly, looking back to Willow and moving his hand from her shoulder to her hair, “he’s just –“</p><p>              “Being an ass,” Willow finished for him. He nodded solemnly before beginning to run his fingers through Willow’s hair. Once more, he looked down to Fred, who must have noticed his staring as Fred, too, turned to look at George. For a moment, the two stared at one another, Fred looking confused, and George looking solemn. But then, quite suddenly, a jolt of anger hit George and rose up through his body, and his expression turned into a disdainful scowl before he looked down at Willow once more, his expression softening immediately.</p><p>              How could Fred do something like that, to Willow of all people? Ever since they’d met she’d been nothing but nice to him; she’d take time out of her day to help him with schoolwork when he needed it, she’d spend time with him and look after him if he didn’t feel great, physically or emotionally – she was there for him whenever he needed it, fiercely loyal as she was with all her friends and family. As far as George could tell, she loved Fred, whether it was simply platonically or a bit more than that he did not know. But one thing he did know is that what Fred was doing to her, ignoring and avoiding her all because he was jealous of the fact that <em>he </em>wasn’t the one in a relationship with her, was damaging her greatly, and Willow, of all people, did <em>not </em>deserve that.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>French translations are from Google so they may not be 100% accurate.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So are you going to enter?” Willow asked that night after the feast. She and Cedric were out walking the grounds, once again having received a permission note from Remus in case they were stopped by anyone, considering it was dark and they should have been in bed by now.</p><p>              “Not sure,” Cedric replied, moving closer to Willow as a cold wind swept past the two.</p><p>              “I think you should. You’d be sure to win if you did.”</p><p>              “Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” Cedric said with a smile. “Prove me right and I might split the winnings.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Anyone put their names in yet?” Ron asked Willow the following afternoon, standing beside her in the Entrance Hall. The Goblet of Fire, the place where all the names were to be put, was located in the middle of the hall, an age line cleverly charmed around it, to prevent underage students putting their names in.</p><p>“All the Durmstrang lot,” she replied. She had been hanging around the Entrance Hall for most of the day, having nothing better to do. Of course, she was also interested to see who exactly were putting their names in the goblet, “but I haven’t seen anyone from Hogwarts yet.”</p><p>“Bet some of them put it in last night after we’d all gone to bed,” Harry said, walking over and standing beside Ron. “I would’ve done if it had been me.”</p><p>He hadn’t exactly started talking to Willow yet, although within the last day he had been making an increase of offhanded comments in response to some of the things Willow had been saying, such as the one he had just made. For whatever reason, this was much more infuriating to Willow than him just completely avoiding her; why couldn’t he just talk to her? Was it really that difficult?</p><p>“Done it!” a voice exclaimed, running down the staircase. It was Fred, who was quickly being pursued by George, the both of them wearing extremely excited grins. “Just taken it.”</p><p>“Taken what?” Willow asked, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised ever-so-slightly. She had a strong suspicion that it was –</p><p>“Aging Potion,” Fred replied, catching Willow off guard. She hadn’t exactly expected for him to answer her of all people, especially considering his typical behaviour towards her.</p><p>“One drop each,” George exclaimed happily. “We only need to be a few months older.”</p><p>“I’m not sure this is going to work, you know,” Hermione said quite suddenly from Harry’s other side; Willow hadn’t even noticed her presence in the room until that moment.</p><p>“You know, I agree with Hermione –“</p><p>But the twins did not listen to either of the girls as, within the next few seconds, both Fred and George had leapt over the age line, the former slipping a bit of parchment with his name and school into the goblet. For a moment, all seemed fine, and the ever-increasing crowd cheered their approval, but, then, the Goblet began to hiss and both of the twins were launched into the air before landing a few metres away on the floor, both now sporting long white beards. Everyone in the hall now laughed, even Fred and George; the only one who wasn’t laughing was Willow, who walked across the hall to them, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.</p><p>“Stupid, you two are, you know that?”</p><p>“Perhaps,” George grinned mischievously, which only seemed to anger her more. “Look, it was worth a try –“</p><p>“You could have been hurt!”</p><p>“I did warn you,” Dumbledore said with a smile as he entered from the Great Hall. “I would suggest a visit to Madam Pomfrey. With luck, you’ll be in and out before the feast. Potter, I trust you will be able to escort them safely.”</p><p> They were in and out of the Hospital Wing within an hour, making it to the Great Hall just in time for the feast. Willow decided, upon her arrival, that she would sit at the Hufflepuff table beside Cedric, which turned out to be a fairly good idea, because as soon as she sat beside him, he grabbed a hold of one of her hands.</p><p>“Nervous, much?” Willow said with a slight giggle; in their two years of friendship she had never seen him in such a state. It was quite odd, if she was being honest, considering he had always been the quiet, strong, intimidating type that was usually quite calm in any given situation.</p><p>“Shut up,” he muttered from under his breath, causing Willow to giggle a bit more, although, at the same time, she squeezed his hand under the table, an act that seemed to calm him down greatly, at least, until the moment the feast ended and Dumbledore rose from his chair.</p><p>“Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” he announced. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions.”</p><p>“Think you’ll get it?” Willow questioned quietly as Dumbledore extinguished the candles in the Hall, only those in the carved pumpkins staying alight, so the Hall was now in a state of partial darkness.</p><p>“Dunno,” Cedric simply replied, and then, the Goblet of Fire shone bright, much brighter than before. Within seconds the blue flame of the goblet turned red and then a slip of parchment shot from it and Dumbledore caught it swiftly.</p><p>“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, his voice booming throughout the Hall, “will be Viktor Krum.”</p><p>“Expected,” Willow said, rolling her eyes as the students clapped and cheered, Krum rising from the Slytherin table and heading through the door Dumbledore had instructed the champions to go through. Then, once again, the flame of the goblet turned red, and another piece of parchment shot out, to be caught once more by Dumbledore.</p><p>“The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!”</p><p>“Toutes nos félicitations!” Willow congratulated over the noises of the Hall as Fleur passed her to get to the door.</p><p>“Merci!” she replied with a smile, looking back at Willow briefly before hurrying towards the door. Once she was gone, the Hall feel silent again, and Willow squeezed Cedric’s hands comfortingly; with her other hand she crossed her fingers hoping and praying for the best.</p><p>“The Hogwarts champion,” Dumbledore announced proudly, the third slip of parchment having shot from the flames, “is Cedric Diggory!”</p><p>Willow smiled proudly and got out of her seat, pulling Cedric up with her; he had been too stunned to move. The students were clapping and cheering much louder than they had been for the others now, and after a bit of pushing and shoving, Willow managed to get Cedric to move towards the door while she joined the Gryffindors, sitting beside George, clapping as she did.</p><p>“Excellent!” Dumbledore said as the crowd quietened down again, Cedric having now left the Hall. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real –“</p><p>Willow’s eyes widened suddenly, seeing what had caused Dumbledore to suddenly stop speaking; the flames of the goblet had turned red again, and a fourth piece of parchment shot out. Willow looked to Remus at the High Table, hoping, in some way, that he had an idea of why such a thing had happened, but all he could do was look at her and shrug; everyone was just as confused as each other. There was a long pause that followed, after Dumbledore caught the fourth bit of parchment, and it was quite apparent as to why when he called out the name written on the parchment.</p><p>“Harry Potter,” he announced, although much quieter compared to when he had read out the other names. Willow looked over to her brother, who was sitting a few seats down; he looked confused and absolutely terrified, and Willow knew she likely looked the same way. How could his name have gotten in there?</p><p>“There’s been a mistake!” Willow shouted suddenly, over the top of the noise that was starting to fill the Hall again, made up of angry muttering though instead of claps and cheers. “You can’t let him compete!” she said, rising from her seat.</p><p>“Potter –“</p><p>“No! It’s not fair! He didn’t put his fucking name into that goblet!” Willow yelled, cutting Dumbledore off. “He’s underage – something bad’ll happen – he can’t!”</p><p>“Potter, I can’t do anything about –“</p><p>“Well, try, for fuck sake!”</p><p>The entirety of the Hall was silent now, heavily invested in the conversation, if you could call it that, between Willow and Dumbledore, the former of which beginning to walk towards the High Table quite purposefully, her eyebrows furrowed, her arms crossed, and heavy breaths escaping from her nostrils.</p><p>Remus, confused as he was to why Harry’s name had been pulled out of the goblet, quickly realised the severity of the situation, and took it upon himself to intervene, stopping Willow in her tracks before she could cause any potential damage to anyone, specifically Dumbledore.</p><p>“Dad –“ she growled as he grabbed a tight hold of her arms. She looked up at him, absolutely furious that he had gotten in her way, and for a moment Remus was reminded strongly of Lily, Willow looking especially identical to her in that moment.</p><p>“I know,” Remus said with a nod. “I’ll sort things out, alright? Sit back down now, please.”</p><p>The girl sighed as Remus let go of her and turned back around. Before she sat down though, she pulled Harry up from his seat and pushed him towards the High Table. Very slowly, Harry began to walk up, Remus walking with him through the door at the side of the Hall once he reached the end of the Gryffindor table.</p><p>Inside the room at the side of the Hall, lined with portraits of all different witches and wizards, stood Cedric, Fleur and Viktor, the three of them keeping warm by the fireplace, all of whom turned to look at Harry and Remus when they entered, having heard the door close behind them.</p><p>“What is it?” Fleur asked, a look of great confusion on her face. “Do zey want us back in ze Hall?”</p><p>“No –“ Remus began to answer, holding a hand on Harry’s shoulder, before the door burst open again.</p><p>“Extraordinary!” Ludo Bagman, who was to be one of the judges, exclaimed. He tried to take Harry by the arm, to lead him over to the other champions, but Remus kept a firm grip on Harry. Bagman looked up at Remus, almost judgingly, although lowered his gaze and let go of Harry once he was, by his own fault, subjected to Remus’ quite icy glare; a clear warning for Bagman to get away from his son. “Right, well,” Bagman said, clearing his throat and stepping away from Harry, “champions! May I introduce you all to the fourth Triwizard champion?”</p><p>“Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman,” Fleur said with a slight giggle and a smile, but Bagman made no attempt at passing off what he had said as a joke. Instead he smiled widely, and all three of the other champions faces turned to a look of clear confusion and a fair bit of disbelief.</p><p>“Professor, he’s not serious, is he?” Cedric questioned Remus, who had his eyes focused on Harry; the boy looked as though he could cry, and Remus could not blame him for wanting to do such a thing.</p><p>“Unfortunately, he is,” Remus spoke quietly, but before anyone could say another word, Bartemius Crouch Sr, Igor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Minerva, Severus and Dumbledore hurried into the room.</p><p>“Madame Maxime!” Fleur said, a little heated as she stormed over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat this little boy is to compete also!”</p><p>“What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?” Maxime questioned, just as, if not more heated than Fleur.</p><p>“I’d rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore,” Karkaroff piped up. “Two Hogwarts champions? I don’t remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?”</p><p>“C’est impossible! ‘Ogwarts cannot ‘ave two champions! It is most unjust.”</p><p>“We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore. Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools.”</p><p>“It’s no one’s fault but Potter’s, Karkaroff,” Severus said, malice written all over his face. Throughout the entirety of the conversation, Remus had been becoming increasingly more agitated, on top of already being furious that Dumbledore could have let something like this happen, Harry’s name going into the goblet, that is. But what Severus had just said was his last straw. “Don’t go blaming Dumbledore for Potter’s determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here –“</p><p>“Take that back, Severus,” Remus growled warningly, startling everyone in the room, considering he had been silent thus far throughout this whole ordeal. “Don’t you dare ever say something like that about my son –“</p><p>“Oh, please, Lupin. Him? <em>Your </em>son?”</p><p>Instantaneously, Remus took his wand from his robe pocket and held it up to Severus, who he had managed to back into a corner; a slight flicker of fear crossing over Severus’ face as it happened.</p><p>“Remus,” Dumbledore warned, nearing the pair.</p><p>“I broke you once and I will be more than glad to do it again,” Remus hissed dangerously. “Now, I will warn you once more, don’t you <em>dare </em>say a word against <em>my son</em>!” A few seconds passed, and if looks had the power to kill, Severus would have most definitely been long gone by now. As soon as the shorter man looked away, too afraid to look Remus in the eyes anymore, Remus backed away, placing his wand gently back into his robe pocket, and grabbed a hold of Harry’s shoulder once more. Seconds of silence passed by, until Dumbledore cleared his throat and turned his attention to Harry.</p><p>“Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?” he asked calmly.</p><p>“No,” Harry answered, truthfully and quietly. Not one person dared to disagree; <em>no one </em>wanted to get on Remus’ bad side.</p><p>“Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Ah, but of course ‘e is lying!” Maxime spoke bravely, Remus resisting, in that moment, every temptation to say something back to her.</p><p>“He could not have crossed the Age Line,” Minerva said sharply, looking up into the eyes of Maxime.</p><p>“I think another opinion is in order,” Dumbledore said finally, turning around to speak to one of the portraits. “Kindly find Potter and bring her up here for me.”</p><p>“Surely you are not going to believe something his sister says, Albus,” Karkaroff said, crossing his arms.</p><p>“You heard her during dinner, Igor –“</p><p>“Well, of course she would say that! She is his sister!”</p><p>“As far as I am aware, neither Harry nor Willow have spoken a word to one another over the last month, would that be right, Harry?” Dumbledore questioned. Harry nodded his head. “And over the two and a bit years she has been here, I’ve come to know, and I’m sure Remus can agree, him being her father and all, that it takes something big for her to have such outbursts as that. My, I strongly remember once upon a time she broke another student’s arm for insulting her friend –“</p><p>“That was Miss Parkinson,” Severus said.</p><p>“Yes, indeed. But you see, Willow is incapable of doing such things as that in a normal day, and not once has she ever told a lie, for if she did, we would all know – she’s a dreadful liar, if I do say so myself. And I do suggest, that when she does come in to speak her piece, that you take her words to heart; I, unfortunately, did not believe a few claims she and Remus had made about our previous Defence Against the Dark Arts professor – a terrible mistake on my part – by my own fault I have caused her unimaginable pain –“</p><p>“You wished to see me,” Willow spoke strongly, entering the room and almost slamming the door behind her. Her arms were crossed, her eyebrows were furrowed; she looked no different than what she had a half hour before at dinner.</p><p>“Did Harry put his name into the goblet?” Dumbledore interrogated, turning to face her.</p><p>“Did I not make my point clear?” Willow questioned, annoyed. All she wanted to do was go to bed and cry out all her frustrations with Draco; the both of them being just as mad as each other about Harry’s name coming from the goblet. “Fucking hell, I’ll say it clearer than, shall I? Harry – did – not – put – his – name – in – the – goblet,” she said, accentuating each and every word of her sentence. “He’s daft, I’ll admit, but he’s not stupid enough to do that – you know, he actually enjoys following rules half the time – this whole thing sounds more like something I’d do, honestly.”</p><p>“So it was you then?” Madame Maxime accused. Fleur shook her head quickly; Willow would not do such a thing and she knew it, but Maxime would not listen, so, Willow took things into her own hands.</p><p>“Va te faire foutre,” she muttered aggressively. Fleur’s hands clasped over her mouth in shock, while Maxime looked very much offended.</p><p>“Willow, now, there’s no need for such language towards our guests,” Dumbledore tutted, only causing Willow to roll her eyes.</p><p>“Well, if she’s going to accuse me for something I didn’t do – whatever – anyway – Harry didn’t do anything. Can I leave now?”</p><p>Dumbledore nodded, and within seconds, Willow was gone.</p><p>“Well? What now? You’re not letting him compete, now, are you?” Remus asked.</p><p>“All the champions are bound by a magically binding contract, Remus. I’m sorry, truly, but there is nothing we are able to do without certain ill effect. He will have to compete.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two weeks had passed since the champions had been announced and Willow had been feeling lonelier than she had ever felt. Of course, she had George; she would always have him, as far as she could tell, but Harry was still refusing to speak to her, most of the students had turned on, not only Harry, but also Willow, especially after they had caught wind of what she had said to Madame Maxime that night, which Willow had since apologised for because, truthfully, after the night passed she felt terrible for what she had said. No longer was Willow spending as much time with Cedric either, as every time she did, she would be ridiculed by his friend group, although he was always sure to tell them to be quiet and stop being such assholes, because it wasn’t Willow’s fault that Harry was a champion – it wasn’t anyone’s fault for that matter, well, not that they knew, anyway – but apparently that fact seemed to go over everyone’s heads.</p><p>              Willow had also been spending much of her time in detention, which Professor McGonagall had assigned after her respected outbursts at Dumbledore and Madame Maxime, although, Professor McGonagall had been sure to assign her detentions to Remus. To Willow’s surprise, upon her first detention, Remus had actually put her to work, writing lines, although he assured Willow that it would only be five minutes a day, and that it was only because he was told exactly what she had said to Madame Maxime; he did not seem to mind her outburst at Dumbledore.</p><p>              But perhaps, what made Willow feel the loneliest, what hurt Willow more than anything she had suffered over the previous weeks was that, the Friday afternoon after her last detention, she was on her way down to the Great Hall for dinner but came to a sudden stop when, around one of the corners, Fred was in the middle of snogging one of the sixth-year girls, completely oblivious to his own surroundings. Quickly and quietly she turned around and instead exited the castle, transformed, and ran to the forest, and as she ran she realised why such a thing had hurt her so deeply. Admittedly, the fact that Fred was giving attention to, at least to Willow, a complete stranger was fairly painful, but as she continued to run deeper into the forest she realised that, maybe, she would have preferred for <em>her </em>to be the one being snogged by Fred in such a way.</p><p>              In that moment of realisation, everything suddenly fell into place for Willow. She had said to Harry at the World Cup that she wasn’t entirely sure about her feelings on Fred, but looking back, all the signs had been there for at least a year, if not more. Now, all of a sudden, she wanted to keep her own distance from Fred, and in thinking this she came to perhaps the largest revelation; Fred was ignoring her because he <em>loved </em>her. He was ignoring her because it hurt him to see her with other people, and now she understood.</p><p>              But even then, realising this, she was nowhere near ready to forgive him for such behaviour. What he had been doing, after all, for a good six months, arguably more if she were to count the time she was with Ron, had pained her greatly, and just because she liked him as more than a friend, perhaps even bordering on love, did not mean she was going to forgive him so easily.</p><p>              “Willow?”</p><p>              The wolf tensed up upon hearing her name. Cautiously, she looked around to see who had called her name, and to her left, hidden between the trees, was –</p><p>              “Charlie?” Willow questioned, human again, having judged it was safe to do so. The young man walked closer to the girl, and Willow could see, as she too began to approach him, that he had a cloth held tight to the upper part of his right arm. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>              “Prepping for the first task,” Charlie said proudly. “See this burn? Hungarian Horntail.”</p><p>              “You mean, the first task of the Tournament?” Willow questioned warily, as she caught up to him, the two then walking through the forest in the direction of people shouting and what sounded like some very displeased dragons.</p><p>              “Yeah. Listen, I heard about what happened and I can assure you, he’ll be right. They’ll put a stop to it if he gets too injured,” Charlie said reassuringly. “That and me and my mates’ll be watching the whole time in case any of the dragons get a bit too heated.”</p><p>              “Those mates of yours the ones doing all the shouting?” Willow asked with a slight smile; she was feeling a little better about Harry being a champion now, with what Charlie had said.</p><p>              “Yeah,” Charlie said sheepishly, looking towards the ground for a second. “All been friends since school, Emma included. Penny’s up there.” He pointed to a blonde blur up in the sky who was hanging around the head of a Swedish Shortsnout. “Merula and Barnaby over there, Ben’s down on the ground there with Chiara, Talbott’s the bird up there.” Charlie pointed to a large dark-coloured bird in the sky who was circling around the dragons’ enclosure, screeching loudly every so often. “Skye’s watching over the Chinese Fireball at the moment, and Tonks has just joined Penny –“</p><p>              “Isn’t she an Auror?” Willow questioned, as she watched the young woman come to a quick halt, turning around and speeding away as the Swedish Shortsnout let out a fiery breath. She had seen her once, almost two years ago when she and Remus went to the Ministry – he had asked her for directions – and she had heard from Remus that he had been one of the Aurors that picked up Peter Pettigrew in Dumbledore’s office, after Willow had nodded off to sleep.</p><p>              “She’s taking a few days off to help us with this lot; she’s always loved helping with the dragons; shame she had to move back to England for this auror stuff,” Charlie explained. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be inside? Dinner would be almost over now, wouldn’t it?”</p><p>              “Yeah, I guess,” Willow sighed. She really wasn’t looking forward to going back to the castle, but she didn’t want to impede on anymore of Charlie’s business; there were four dragons in there, and, as far as Willow could tell, it was only him, Emma, and their eight friends that were around to keep them under control. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”</p><p>              Charlie nodded, then, the two parted ways, Charlie going to tend to his dragons, and Willow slowly making her way back up to the castle.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Saw your brother the other day,” Willow said, taking a sip of the Butterbeer in front of her. Saturday, and she and George had wandered down into Hogsmeade, seeing as there was quite a bit to discuss, including some new revelations about who may have put Harry’s name in the goblet.</p><p>              “Which one?” George asked. Willow rolled her eyes. “What? I’ve got six of them, you know that.”</p><p>              “Charlie,” Willow explained. “He’s in the forest – <em>don’t </em>go looking for him because I’ll get in trouble if you do. Technically speaking, I wasn’t even meant to be there the other night, we just happened to come across each other. Anyway, he’s here with Emma and all their friends for the first task. They’ve bought in four dragons.”</p><p>              George almost spat out his Butterbeer. “Dragons?” he choked.</p><p>              “Yes, one for each of them. Chinese Fireball, Swedish Shortsnout, Hungarian Horntail and a Common Welsh Green. I’m not sure what the champions have got to do with them though.”</p><p>              “Tame them, maybe?” George suggested. “Anyway, what’s this thing about who put the name in the goblet?”</p><p>              “Right, that,” Willow said, looking around the pub quickly before shuffling a bit closer to George and lowering voice. “I’m suspecting Igor Karkaroff. He’s a Death Eater, released from Azkaban after providing Crouch Jr’s name to the Wizengamot. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s still working for You-Know-Who. He was the first to make a fuss about Harry’s name going in the goblet too and he’s refused to believe anything anyone says about Harry not putting his name in the –“</p><p>              She stopped suddenly, hearing the bell at the top of the door ring along with a shrill laugh. Willow’s eyes narrowed as she watched the girl, holding onto Fred’s arm with a similar amount of strength as Neville held onto her hands. George turned around to see who Willow was looking at in such an envious manner and scoffed upon seeing Fred and this girl he had gotten himself entangled with. Turning around, he rolled his eyes, annoyed, before snapping his fingers together in Willow’s face to pull her attention away from Fred but stopped to look around again as Willow began to raise a hand. He could see that she and Fred had their eyes locked, and a flicker of anger passed over his face as George turned to see that Willow was now holding up her middle finger in his direction.</p><p>              “Willow –“ George said, leaning across the table and resting a hand on her arm, trying to draw her attention from Fred, not wanting things to escalate any further than what they had.</p><p>              “What?” the girl spat, turning her attention to George and letting her hand fall. The two stared at one another for a moment, one glaring angrily and the other looking sympathetic. It didn’t take long for Willow’s façade to fall; it began with her eyes tearing up, then turned into her closing her eyes, and after that it was her head buried into her arms on the table.</p><p>              “Come on,” George spoke quietly, shaking Willow’s arm lightly. She looked up slightly, her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes dull, the usual joyful brightness in them gone. George could feel his heart breaking. He was no stranger to her crying; she always saw him if she had any problem, after all, and it would always hurt him a bit whenever she cried, as it would hurt any friend. But the reason she cried was making him feel a lot more pain than usual, and not because the reason was his own brother, but because he couldn’t believe anyone, <em>especially </em>him of all people, would treat Willow in such a way; she deserved more than that, after everything she’d done for him over the years.</p><p>              “Let’s go,” George said finally, standing up before helping Willow out of her seat, holding her close as the two left the Three Broomsticks. Neither of them paid any more attention to Fred as they passed; George hadn’t even made any sign of knowing that Fred had tried to speak to him as they left. He was sick of his behaviour; he’d had enough, and he vowed that the next time he had a chance to talk to him, properly, that Fred would regret ever having treated Willow in such a way.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>She was actually quite surprised that night, when she laid by Neville on the sofa in front of the dying fireplace. She felt she owed it to him, at the very least, to spend time with him like this after having spent much of her days since returning to Hogwarts avoiding him, and earlier in the Three Broomsticks she had been painfully reminded just how much it hurt to be shunned, and how much she had probably been hurting Neville by doing the exact thing she hated so much.</p><p>              But she would be lying if she didn’t say she didn’t like being on the sofa with him. As per usual, he had clung onto her like a limpet, and Willow was feeling fairly uncomfortable because of that; she didn’t like the claustrophobic feeling that she was being subjected to. She tried her best to tell Neville discreetly, that what he was doing was making her feel bad, by shifting herself slightly every few minutes, but none of that worked as he only held on tighter, possibly thinking she was going to fall or something along those lines.</p><p>              “Willow,” he spoke quietly, not long after the two hour mark had passed. He yawned, tired, before following up with, “I love you.”</p><p>              Almost immediately, Willow forced herself from his hold before pacing angrily by the fire. Of all people, she did <em>not </em>want to hear those words from him, especially not now. She had been avoiding him for months on end and he was stupid enough to say this?</p><p>              “Neville –“ she began, as calmly as possible, coming to a halt in front of him; he, himself, was now standing too.</p><p>              “You don’t feel the same way, do you?” he asked. She could hear the pain in his voice.</p><p>              “I thought that was obvious,” Willow said without a thought, eyes widening in realisation and hands clasping over her mouth not even seconds after the words had slipped from her mouth. Quite suddenly, whatever expression Neville had on his face turned to that of blatant anger, and Willow couldn’t blame him, nor could she blame him for what he did not long after.</p><p>              She could see that he’d regretted it as soon as his hand had hit her face; his expression no longer angry, instead holding an air of sympathy and regret before a flicker of fear passed over his face, someone, Harry, having just entered the common room from outside.</p><p>              He first saw Willow curled up on the floor by the fireplace, sobbing and clutching her cheek with her hand before looking up at Neville, who was standing not far from her, a nervous look on his face. It didn’t take long for Harry to connect the dots of what had happened, and within seconds of realising that Neville had hurt his sister in such a way, he had tackled him to the floor and sent a punch directly towards his face.</p><p>              Harry had completely ignored, in that moment, that Neville was a friend. To him, that did not matter; he had hurt his sister, quite physically for that matter, and Harry was <em>not </em>going to let that slide so easily because <em>no one </em>was allowed to do that to her. And even though neither Harry nor Willow had said more than a word to one another in the last month, at the end of the day, Willow was still his sister.</p><p>              “Harry, stop,” Willow begged, struggling to breath. She knew she deserved what she got; if she had been Neville she would have slapped her too, if not more. To Willow’s surprise, Harry stood up and ordered Neville away before kneeling beside Willow on the floor and wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, rocking back and forth as she cried. For the half hour that the two were on the floor, Willow felt completely at peace for the first time in a while. And even though she knew that once this moment ended he would most likely go back to not speaking to her, she didn’t care; he was here for her now, in a moment she needed him, and that was all that mattered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Willow, it’s been four days. You’ll completely starve yourself if you stay up here any longer.”</p><p>“That’s what I’m hoping to do.”</p><p>              George sighed, crossing his arms as he began to pace. Willow was laying on the sofa by the fireplace, something she had been spending her last half of the week doing; laying there, unmoving, refusing to speak to anyone but George. She would have completely starved by now if George hadn’t insisted on her eating at least one meal a day, that he would bring up to the common room during dinner.</p><p>              She had taken this breakup much more difficultly than the one with Ron, mostly because she felt as though she should have done things better, or perhaps even taken the initiative earlier and break up with him herself in September, instead of waiting for everything to get as bad as it did.</p><p>              “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Willow asked, crossing her arms over her chest and opening her eyes to look up at George.</p><p>              “I’m not mad <em>at</em> you,” George said. “I could never be. Mad at what you’re doing, on the other hand –“</p><p>              “That’s the same thing.”</p><p>              “No, it isn’t,” George insisted. “Whatever – anyway – can you just come down and eat breakfast, at the very least? For me?”</p><p>              With an angry sigh, Willow stood, arms still crossed, and followed George slowly out of the common room and towards the Great Hall. She really wasn’t in the mood to eat nor be around so many people, but she didn’t want George to feel any anger towards her anymore, and, at the end of the day, she figured that heading out of the common room for a bit of time wouldn’t hurt her.</p><p>              As soon as they’d made it to the doors of the Great Hall though, Willow, and to extension, George, deeply regretted leaving the common room. Upon their arrival, Fred had noticed the two of them and decided, as one of his many ways to try and make Willow jealous, as he had already been doing quite successfully over the last weeks, to turn to his side and snog his so called girlfriend, <em>very </em>passionately.</p><p>              Willow wasted no time in turning around and storming off, simultaneously furious, upset and heartbroken, whilst George wasted no time in storming into the Great Hall, taking his twin brother’s arm strongly and walking him outside into the Entrance Hall. It was time to have a talk with his brother.</p><p>Slamming him harshly against the wall, George immediately began to shout, trying to get some sort of sense into Fred’s mind. He needed to realise, especially now, just how much Willow had been hurt by his own selfishness.</p><p>“Willow has done nothing but try her best to be nice to you even when you’re too stuck up in your own jealousy to do it yourself!” George shouted, holding a struggling Fred against the stone wall. “The actual shit that you’ve been putting her through is enough! She has cried too many times over this, and I want to tell her it will all get better, but the reality is, it won’t!” George pressed on. “She’s the best bloody person who’s come into your life and you decide to treat her like she’s nothing all because she’d gotten herself a boyfriend!”</p><p>At first, what George had been shouting at Fred went through one ear and out the other. But by the end, his words had finally began to dwell in Fred’s mind. He finally began to realise the extent of what he had done over the past few months, and just how much damage he had caused, but, most importantly, how much he had hurt, Willow, who, arguably to him, was the love of his life.</p><p>“She needs her best friend right now! She wants her best friend right now! She just went through a godawful breakup and the fact that what was her best friend isn’t growing up and stepping up to the mark he should be, makes all of her emotional pain she’s suffering at the moment a thousand times worse!” George continued to shout. He had now let go of his brother, but he was not yet finished. He needed Fred to understand what his acts of selfishness had caused.</p><p>“Fred, I love you, but this whole thing you’ve been doing has just made you become a complete asshole and I’m sick of it. And so is Willow,” George sighed turning to look behind him. At the top of the stairs stood Willow, her hair covering most of her face as she looked down towards the ground.</p><p>“Willow –” Fred said when he saw her figure. He tried desperately to find the words to explain why he had done such awful things to her; why he had hurt her so.</p><p>“I’ll be back in the common room, George,” Willow spoke in a hushed voice. She couldn’t bare speaking to Fred. Not now anyway; not after everything he’d done.</p><p>              For the rest of that day, Willow did not leave Gryffindor Tower, although she decided to relocate to the twins’ dormitory instead, making herself comfortable on George’s bed, the curtains closed around her. Throughout the day she heard movement, none of which from George, and multiple times throughout the day she almost opened the curtains so Fred could see her, and so the two could talk, but she knew in the end that would make her feel no better, not at the moment anyway. At around seven in the evening, George finally entered the room for the first time, bringing in food for Willow, to which she only ate half of, before climbing into the bed with her and holding her close, as he had done many times over the last months, and almost immediately she cried. She cried and she ranted about all that she was upset about, all to do with Fred it seemed, and in amidst her crying she hadn’t heard him enter the room and lay in his own bed, his own silent tears falling down his face as he listened to her cry about what <em>he’d </em>done – the pain <em>he </em>had caused her to feel. For the first time in almost a year he realised just how stupid he had been. Stupid and selfish and completely and utterly wrong, and all of the pain and the heartbreak on both ends would have been avoided if he had just been like George; if he had just stayed by her side, like a good friend would. But he hadn’t, and now, he was suffering from the consequences.</p><p>              Willow awoke early the next morning, having, for the first time in some time, an undisturbed sleep. She found herself still wrapped in George’s arms, and she would have stayed all day if she could, held close to him like that – it was one of the rare times she felt completely comfortable and at peace – but unfortunately she did not have time for that. She had missed three days of classes, and she needed to try and catch up on at least some of the more important work, so she made her way down to the common room to get a start on it before breakfast.</p><p>              She was admittedly surprised with how much her mood had improved in the span of a few hours. Of course, there was still problems to be fixed, like a long conversation with Fred and Harry still ignoring her to some degree, although she knew both of those could be fixed fairly easy, plus, there were many problems that had already been solved; she was no longer with Neville, which came to be a good thing on both ends, as, sad as he was initially, he was looking much better the day before, Willow having spotted him briefly at breakfast before catching Fred’s eye.</p><p>              By the time breakfast had come around, Willow had managed to finish a good chunk of her outstanding work, the only one she hadn’t touched being Defence Against the Dark Arts; considering Remus was her father she figured she could leave it until last. He wouldn’t mind too much, after all. The most he would do is give her a few detentions with him, in which he would probably make Willow do her work then.</p><p>              That morning, when she reached the Great Hall, she decided she would sit with Cedric. She was most definitely <em>not </em>welcomed by his friends, but she did not care for them today; she was feeling in too good of a mood to do so. Plus, today was the day of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and if she wasn’t allowed to comfort Harry, she’d at least be able to keep Cedric calm to some degree.</p><p>              “You’ll be right,” she said later that day as the two walked down to the tent set up by the enclosure in the Forbidden Forest. Classes had ended at midday to give the students and the champions apt time to arrive down at the enclosure in time for the first task to start. “You know what spell you’re using, I’m sure everything’ll be okay. Charlie and the others are waiting around as well, in case the dragons get too heated.”</p><p>              They were the third ones down at the tent, Fleur already sitting in the corner on a stool looking far less composed than her usual self, and Viktor Krum pacing up and down. Harry entered not long after, and Cedric gave him a small smile before pacing around himself, nervously playing with his hands as Willow walked faster than usual to keep up with him.</p><p>              Remus entered the tent for a brief moment with Sirius, who had come to watch the first task, and the two of them gave Harry a mildly comforting hug, wishing him luck and exchanging words of loves as if he was about to die.</p><p>              “He’s not going to die Dad, Sirius,” Willow said, rolling her eyes, arms crossed.</p><p>              “Yes, well, better to be safe than sorry,” Sirius remarked. In some ways she could understand why, whenever anything mildly dangerous happened or would happen to Willow or Harry, Sirius and Remus were so anxious to make sure they knew they were loved; the two of them hadn’t been able to do that to Lily and James after all, and mixed with Willow’s recent scare at the Quidditch World Cup and the knowledge that none of this was right and that Voldemort was after Willow, well, she supposed there was an appropriate reason to be so anxious.</p><p>              Not even a second after Sirius and Remus said their, what they thought would be, potential final words to their son, Ludo Bagman entered the tent and explained the rules to the champions. Just before he began to speak, he had noticed Willow’s presence, although decided better to say anything against her presence; he didn’t want to be the victim of one of her outbursts.</p><p>              “Well, now we’re all here – time to fill you in!” he spoke brightly. “When the audience has assembled, I’m going to be offering each of you this bag from which you will select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different – er – varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too … ah, yes … your task is to collect the golden egg!”</p><p>              Cedric looked like he was going to be sick at those words, and Willow felt not so much different. Not much long later were the champions pulling model dragons of the ones they would be facing from Bagman’s purple bag.</p><p>              Cedric was to compete first, facing off the Swedish Shortsnout; second was Fleur with the Common Welsh Green; third was Krum with the Chinese Fireball; and fourth was Harry with the Hungarian Horntail.</p><p>              Soon after that, the whistle blew and Cedric was to face his dragon. Willow gave him a quick comforting hug and assured him, again, that everything would be alright, before sending him off, out of the tent, while she sat by Harry, taking one of his hands into her own. Just like a few days before, they had put a pause on their strange little personal avoidance of one another, because just as Willow was Harry’s sister, Harry was Willow’s brother, and at the moment, he needed the reassurance that he would be alright, and who better than from her?</p><p>              It took fifteen minutes for Cedric to get his egg, and after shouting, “Bonne chance, Fleur!” Fleur was out the tent facing off her dragon. She had gotten her egg after ten minutes, and Willow said a polite “good luck” to Krum, who nodded with a polite attempt at a smile before he went to face his dragon, which took around the same time as Fleur. Then, at long last, it was Harry’s turn.</p><p>              “You’ll be fine, promise,” Willow whispered, her arms wrapped around her brother tightly. She’d be lying if she’d said she wasn’t at least a bit nervous.</p><p>              “If I get out of this alive, I may just consider speaking to you again,” Harry said. The two looked at one another and smiled before laughing a little, the air between them a lot less tense than it had been almost two months prior.</p><p>              “A very good chance then,” Willow smiled. “Well, anyway,” she sighed, “get out there and get that egg. I’ll see you after.”</p><p>              And with that, Harry left the tent, and Willow was now alone. She decided she’d rather skip watching the event last minute; she was already terrified for Harry and the others enough as it was, but from what she could hear, all seemed as if it were going alright. Even if Willow <em>had </em>wanted to watch, she wouldn’t have seen too much anyway, considering Harry had gotten his egg within five minutes.</p><p>              In another tent was Madam Pomfrey and the injured champions. Willow had already entered the tent and sat by Cedric whilst Harry was nicking his egg from the dragon, who entered himself not long after the egg had been grabbed, followed by Ron who decided to make amends with Harry, after a month of avoiding him, because he had been under the impression, much like the rest of the school, that Harry had put his own name in the Goblet.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>She had started to fall asleep in the armchair as the fire began to slowly burn out. The dying fire reminded her strongly of the dragons earlier that day. It put a smile to her face, grateful that no one had died yet, until she heard the sound of footsteps echoing from the stairs that led up to the boys’ dormitories. Promptly, she flicked her gaze from the fire to the stairs and saw Fred staring at her, almost longingly. He muttered not even a single word to her before turning around, thinking he hadn’t been spotted, and beginning to walk up the steps again.</p><p>“Fuck you,” Willow growled suddenly before she could stop herself, storming up from the chair and over to Fred, who by now had turned around, offended at what she had said. She couldn’t believe him; all he had wanted to do the day before was speak to her and make amends, and now he wanted to be a coward and go back to avoiding her, as if that would fix any problems. Pure anger and adrenaline pulsated throughout her veins, and after dragging Fred to the middle of the room, she punched him square in the nose, a crunch sounding throughout the room upon impact.</p><p>“What the fuck was that for?” Fred asked aggressively. Blood had now started pouring from his freshly broken nose and the regret that had come from hurting Willow as much as he had was beginning to fill his mind once again.</p><p>“You once said to me,” Willow began, tears already falling from her eyes. She regretted punching him that hard, even though it was completely warranted, especially considering his behaviour over the last months. “No, let me rephrase that,” her voice was fierce, and Fred almost felt like whimpering in the corner of the room. Willow-Violet Potter was not a force to be reckoned with, especially in the state she was in at the moment, “you <em>promised </em>me that no matter what happens, you would always be there for me! Remember? On the Quidditch Pitch, after Ron and I broke up! No matter what happens!”</p><p>“Willow I –”</p><p>“But then all of a sudden I’m in another fucking relationship and you decide that I am nothing! Two years, you were there for me, and I was there for you, through everything, and then you stop hanging around me all because I have a boyfriend? You’re a child, you know that? And, god, I needed you, you of all people, two days ago when he broke up with me, but were you there? No! You decided my pain wasn’t good enough for your attention! Fred I am your best friend, or at least I thought I was until –”</p><p>“I couldn’t!”</p><p>Willow was abruptly taken aback. Not once had she ever heard Fred shout or yell, especially not to her of all people.</p><p>“You couldn’t want?” Willow asked through gritted teeth. That was when he began to cry.</p><p>“I love you. I have loved you since the day I laid eyes on you and I just thought it was too late and,” his legs collapsed from underneath him, causing him to fall to the floor in a heap, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>He was trembling on the floor; an awful mixture of blood and tears falling onto the carpet, his head buried in his hands. She had never seen him in such a state before, she had never seen him as such a mess. And she so desperately wanted to hold him, and apologise and tell him that everything was okay, but it was his fault that they were in this situation in the first place.</p><p>Willow walked slowly over to the portrait hole, ready to step out and make her way to Draco’s bed. She needed comfort, but she didn’t want to be with any of the Gryffindors. Before she did though, she turned and looked behind her. Fred was staring at her, helpless and sobbing and covered in his own blood. Bravely, she stared back at him and uttered two words before leaving.</p><p>“Prove it.”</p><p>The day following the argument, Willow entered the common room quite early in the morning. She found Fred in the same position he had been in the night before, crumpled in a ball, covered in his own blood and tears. He was asleep, although barely, and he awoke to an awful aching pain in his nose.</p><p>“It’s not broken anymore,” Willow spoke quietly as she put her wand away before kneeling down to face him. “I hate you,” she said, fire in her eyes as she grabbed the collar of his shirt. Fred looked as if he was going to start crying again. “But I love you too,” she admitted, still keeping a tight grip on his collar as she pulled him closer to her, their faces only inches away from each other. “And if you ever, hurt me like that again, I swear to you, I will permanently ruin your chance of bearing children.” Without a second thought, Willow quite suddenly pressed her lips harshly against his for the briefest of moments before letting go of his shirt collar, standing up and walking downstairs to breakfast, a hint of a smile on her face. They had had their talk, they had confessed their feelings, and now, order could finally be restored once more. All was well.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Staring at me now, are we, Miss Potter?”</p><p>              Willow quickly cast her gaze back down to her lunch, a blush forming quickly on her face. It had been a week since the confession, if that’s what it could be called, and Willow was feeling the best she had felt all year. In that last week, she and Fred had begun talking again; every minute they had free the two spent with one another, catching up on all they had missed in each other’s lives, and just generally getting to know one another again. Within the last two days though, the two of them had actually started acknowledging their previously held-back feelings for one another, exchanging glances and, when they were confident enough, holding onto one another’s hands, if only for a few moments.</p><p>              “Well, I think I’m perfectly at liberty to do such a thing now, aren’t I?” Willow said quietly, glancing at him quickly with a smile before letting a hand fall onto one of his underneath the table. No words could describe how this simple thing made her feel; touching his hand, let alone holding it. All she could really understand is that it made her feel good and warm and comforted. As much as she would have liked to stay like this with Fred, though, she couldn’t help but notice Cedric milling around the doors of the Great Hall. The night before, he and Willow had cracked open the egg that he had won from the dragon in the first task and, to the untrained ear, what had escaped the egg was nothing but some fairly loud and obnoxious screeching, although Willow knew, upon hearing such a thing, that this was actually mermaid song. They could not sing above ground though, so Willow requested that she and Cedric head upstairs to the Prefect’s bathroom the following day, and it seemed that Cedric was fairly impatient to get there.</p><p>“This is perhaps one of the strangest situations I have ever been in,” Cedric observed only minutes later, Willow having excused herself from breakfast to join him in heading up to the Prefect’s bathroom. Prior to their arrival though, Willow quickly grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, to write down whatever the clue was in the egg to decipher later on.</p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t peak while you’re getting in,” Willow assured, turning around as Cedric undressed before she got the all clear to face him again. He was now sitting comfortably in the pool-sized bath, egg in his hands.</p><p>“Put it in the water,” Willow instructed, taking off her shoes and socks, rolling up her leggings and dipping her feet into the water. The water felt quite nice, warm but not warm enough to burn; it was all quite relaxing, and Willow would have to remember how to get in here in the future.</p><p>Cedric did as he was told, placing the egg in the water, except, quite stupidly, he opened it before it was completely drowned in the bath. Quickly, the two friends covered their ears as it violently screeched.</p><p>“Underwater you idiot!” Willow shouted.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because it’s a mermaid’s song! They can only be heard under the water! And that means you have to go under with the egg too, otherwise you won’t hear what it says!”</p><p>Taking a hand from his ear, Cedric pushed the egg underwater before going under himself. Finally, the room was quiet again, and Willow was able to take her hands from her ears. She waited close to a minute before Cedric resurfaced.</p><p>“Come seek us where our voices sound, we cannot sing above the ground, and while you’re searching ponder this, we’ve taken what you sorely miss,” Cedric began to recite, Willow quickly scribbling the hint on the parchment she had brought with her. “An hour long you’ll have to look, and to recover what we took, but past the hour the prospect’s black, too late it’s gone it won’t come back.”</p><p>“What could that mean?” he asked moments later, trying to catch his breath.</p><p>“Well, let’s start with the important bits, shall we? ‘<em>An hour long you’ll have to look, to recover what we took</em>’. That one’s obvious,” Willow said, looking up from her parchment and over to Cedric. “You’ll need something to help you breath underwater though. Gillyweed could work, but that would require stealing it from Professor Snape, and I’m not exactly in the mood for a detention, especially not from something so meagre as that.”</p><p>“What about the Bubblehead Charm?” Cedric suggested.</p><p>“That could work, depending on how efficiently you cast it,” Willow agreed before continuing. “Now, the other bit, ‘<em>We’ve taken what you’ll solely miss</em>’. I doubt it would be an object; that’s not dangerous nor entertaining enough. Plus, you can get personal possessions back.”</p><p>“What then?” Cedric asked curiously.</p><p>“People.”</p><p>“People?”</p><p>“Yes. People,” Willow said matter-of-factly. “Hundreds of years ago, sailors would report of Merpeople, Sirens rather, that would lure people into the sea with their voices. Obviously, I don’t think the mermaids would be singing to them – they can’t sing above water, after all – but you get my meaning.”</p><p>“But how would people be put in there without knowing? And who would they be?” Cedric questioned, becoming more and more intrigued with every passing second.</p><p>“It would probably be different for everyone. It’ll likely be me when it comes to Harry, considering the whole <em>we’ve taken what you’ll solely miss</em>,” Willow said, grimacing at the thought of being stuck underwater, likely unconscious, for an hour or more. “For you it would probably be Cho I assume. Although, frankly, would it be all that bad if she was left down there?”</p><p>“Willow,” Cedric warned, pushing Willow slightly. She lifted her legs out of the water and turned away from Cedric before he stepped out of the water to redress.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry, but she’s an asshole. To me she is anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Just over a week had passed since Cedric and Willow had figured out the clue. The both of them had kept quiet about what they had found out, concerning the second task of the Tournament, although the two of them were beginning to raise a slight bit of suspicion, as both were spending most of their free hours in the library. They both knew the task was months away, almost three to be exact, but they wanted to get as much study out of the way as they could, so that they would both be prepared by the time the task came around.</p><p>              “What are you two even doing in there?” Fred asked one afternoon as Willow lined up for her next class. The two had decided to officially move themselves past friendship status in that last week.</p><p>              “I can’t exactly say anything,” Willow said in a hushed voiced, “but it’s got to do with the second task. Anyway, get going, you’ll be late to class – Professor Snape won’t be too happy if you show up five minutes after he’s started.”</p><p>              “I’ll be fine,” Fred said nonchalantly before leaning down slightly and kissing Willow on the lips. She smiled as he did; she felt as though she could never get tired of this, kissing Fred, that is. “See you later?”</p><p>              “We’ll see,” Willow said as she looked down the corridor to see both Remus and Sirius – who would be staying until after Christmas – walking towards the classroom. “Now, go!” Willow said urgently, shoving Fred lightly, although the two of them smiling, nonetheless. He began to make his way up the corridor, although turned around suddenly, making his way back to Willow to plant another kiss on her, before turning around again and running off at lightning speed, leaving Willow giggling as she entered the classroom, sitting down beside Harry.</p><p>              After everyone had entered the classroom, Remus shut the door behind them as Sirius made his way to Remus’ desk at the front of the classroom, where he promptly sat down, his legs rested on the desk as he leant back in the chair. Smiling yet shaking his head disapprovingly, Remus began to make his way to the front of the classroom, although stopped once reaching Willow and Harry’s desks.</p><p>              “Books out for the moment, all of you, and just read whatever you like,” he instructed before leaning down to talk to the siblings. “I had a talk with Dumbledore the other day about you-know-what,” he said quietly. Willow and Harry both nodded understandingly; he had talked to Dumbledore about the situation surrounding Voldemort, “and, well, I suggested maybe it might be good for the students to learn about the unforgiveable curses, with how the climate’s beginning to turn, anyway.”</p><p>              “Is that what we’re doing today then?” Harry asked.</p><p>              “Yes. You’ll be the first class,” Remus explained. “You two will still have to participate, though, otherwise people might become a bit suspicious as to why you two know all of this already, alright?”</p><p>              The siblings nodded again.</p><p>              “Good – oh – and if I call either of you two up for an Imperius demonstration, try to pretend you’re being influenced by it.”</p><p>              Once again, the siblings nodded, as Remus stood to his full height again before making his way over to the blackboard at the front of the class. He began to write down what the theory was behind the least damaging curse, the Imperious Curse, and behind them, the siblings could hear Hermione gasp.</p><p>              “We’re not really learning the unforgiveable curses, are we?” she questioned, astonished, as she leaned over her desk to talk to the siblings. Harry nodded. “But, but we’re not meant to learn those until sixth year! Harry, has this got anything to do with that dream –“</p><p>              “Shh,” he shushed quickly turning around; Hermione had been talking quiet enough, but he still didn’t want to risk any chances of anyone hearing her. “Yes, it is,” he whispered.</p><p>              “But you said it was just –“</p><p>              “Yeah, well, it might not be,” Harry spoke hurriedly, turning to face the front again as people started to see what was being written on the board.</p><p>              “But, Professor, we’re not supposed to be learning those until sixth year!” Parvati Patil exclaimed loudly in surprise.</p><p>              “I’m well aware that today’s lessons may come as a shock to you all but Professor Dumbledore has expressed that it would be to everyone’s benefit to learn such curses at this point in time, minus the first and second years, of course,” Remus explained, placing the chalk on his desk as he faced the class. Immediately, everyone put their books away, replacing them for parchment and quills.</p><p>              “As you can see, today we will be learning the three unforgiveable curses,” Remus said, pacing slightly as he usually did during class, as the students began to copy what was written on the board. “Now, can anyone tell me why they are known as ‘unforgiveable’? Hermione, yes –“</p><p>              “Because performing any one of them in a non-teaching environment can place you in Azkaban for life,” Hermione explained matter-of-factly.</p><p>              “Yes, indeed, Hermione, hence the name ‘unforgiveable’. On the board I have written down arguably the tamest of the three to begin with, the Imperious Curse, but can anyone tell me what the other two might be? Neville, go ahead –“</p><p>              “The Cruciatus Curse,” Neville said timidly. Willow gave him a brief look of sympathy. She knew why he would know such a thing, having been doing such extensive research on all those Death Eaters, and it was a shame that he had to know what it was in such a way.</p><p>              Remus simply nodded, also giving Neville a look of sympathy; quite recently Sirius had told Willow about the organisation that he and Remus and many others, including Neville’s parents, were part of during the First Wizarding War – the Order of the Phoenix – so it came as no surprise that Remus would have known about what had happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom.</p><p>              “The final curse,” Remus began after a few quiet seconds had passed, not having bothered to explain what the Cruciatus curse was just yet, “is the Killing Curse – something that has been quite popular as of recent, considering only one person has survived it thus far.” Remus looked over at Harry for a brief moment. “Of course the circumstances surrounding that survival are important to note though; the curse rebounded as Voldemort had broken an Unbreakable Vow –“</p><p>              “What was the vow?” Seamus asked curiously.</p><p>              “I may just see myself fired if I go into the details,” Remus said, “but I can tell you that it was because Voldemort had killed one more person that he had been entitled to. Now …“</p><p>              Much of the first and second half of the double-lesson was simply copying the theory behind the curses, along with learning how they are performed, of course, Remus making each and every one of them promise to only use such curses as a last resort, before, during the final ten minutes, Remus took it upon himself to demonstrate the Imperius curse on Willow, who had gladly offered herself up as a guinea pig.</p><p>              As the bell rang to signal the end of class, Remus informed the students that, if they needed someone to talk to after experiencing such a heavy lesson, his door would be open for those who needed it, before informing Willow that he and Sirius needed to see her after class.</p><p>              “What is it?” Willow questioned as students began to quickly file out of the room.</p><p>              “Well,” Sirius began, “as per Triwizard Tournament tradition, a Yule Ball will be held on Christmas Eve –“</p><p>              “We’ve already given Harry his outfit for the occasion,” Remus interrupted.</p><p>              “– yes and we have your dress in the office at the moment. Bought it just last week, and you’re lucky I was there, otherwise Remus would have bought you something absolutely horrid.”</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Willow was quite lucky that Sirius had been with Remus when buying the dress, because what Sirius had picked out was absolutely magnificent.</p><p>              Willow had refused to look at it until Christmas Eve, her anticipation to see it and wear it rising as each day passed until finally, she was stood in front of the mirror in her dormitory, feeling quite vain as she admired herself.</p><p>              The dress was emerald green, complimenting the colour of her eyes nicely, and flowed down to just above her ankles. The bodice was covered in embroidered roses and hugged her quite nicely. A part of her felt a little self-conscious; she wasn’t used to wearing dresses, especially ones that accentuated her features as much as this one did. The last time she had worn a dress in general was Christmas three years beforehand, during the Malfoys’ Christmas party they would host every year. She did have to admit though, she looked quite good in the dress, and she was close to believing what George had said at the World Cup, about her being better-looking than the Veelas.</p><p>              Downstairs in the common room, she met Draco, who was dressed in a handsome white formal – an outfit that complimented both his hair and eyes quite well. The two politely complimented each other before heading upstairs to the Entrance Hall and, upon arrival, splitting up in different directions; Draco finding his way to Harry, and Willow finding her way to Fred.</p><p>              “You clean up alright,” Fred said with a grin as he put an arm around Willow’s shoulders.</p><p>              “As do you,” Willow said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head slightly, biting her lower lip as she looked down at the stone floor; she wanted to scream, in the best way possible. Not in a million years had she ever expected to do something like this with Fred, not until recently, anyway. Once again she found herself reminding herself that they were a couple now, the joy of the reminder causing Willow to finally crack a smile as the doors of the Great Hall opened. It was eight o’clock, the ball had begun.</p><p>              The Great Hall looked completely different to how it did on a usual day; the walls were glistening with silver frost and the ceiling reflected the starry night outside. Garlands of ivy and mistletoe hung from the walls, four large Christmas trees stood in each corner of the Hall, and the house tables had been replaced with at least a hundred smaller tables, all able to fit at least twelve people at each. One of the most magnificent areas of the newly decorated Great Hall, though, was the centre, where a large glistening square, reminiscent of ice, was placed on the ground; this was where they would all dance.</p><p>              Fred and Willow were quick to find a table to sit at, close to the square, as Harry and the other Champions, along with their partners – Draco, Cho with Cedric, Roger Davies with Fleur, and, oddly, Hermione with Viktor Krum – made their way to the square to start the dancing.</p><p>              And as they danced, Willow could feel the combined power of both Fleur and Draco’s Veela blood shining through; she was completely entranced with the two of them as they danced with their respective partners, and upon inspection, much of the others in the Great Hall were too. Remus and Sirius brought an abrupt end to this though, as the both of them stumbled onto the square in fits of laughter, both seemingly intoxicated – they most definitely were drinking prior to the ball – and both soon drunkenly dancing, stepping on each other’s toes and, nearing the end of the dance, as more people entered the square, falling to the floor in a heap, Sirius eventually having to push Remus off of him.</p><p>              Willow couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two, and as the two crawled away from the dancing, soon leaving the Great Hall together, hands entwined as they tried to keep one another from falling, Willow remembered a very similar thing she had seen in one of the pictures of her parents’ wedding, the week after they had all left Hogwarts. Soon enough she was remembering one of the Muggle tapes Sirius had shown her over the summer – she recalled Sirius telling her that Lily had insisted on buying a Muggle device that made long moving pictures with sound – that he had dragged out of a long-forgotten box in the attic.</p><p>              The tape was made on the day of her parents’ wedding, the twenty-sixth of June, sixteen years prior. Her favourite part of the tape was when her mother and father had their first dance together, as a married couple; the smiles on their faces, the laughter when her mother had tripped and torn the skirt of her dress, all the love that seemed to emanate throughout that whole day. Willow wondered what it would be like if they were here now. Remus had told her that Lily had always wanted to be the Potions professor, so perhaps she would be here at the ball to, with James, although Willow guessed the two would have been a little less intoxicated than her two adopted fathers seemed to be.</p><p>              “Wills, you alright?” George asked. He was sitting opposite Willow and Fred at the table, one of Gryffindor’s Chasers, Angelina Johnson, beside him. Fred quickly turned his attention from Ron, who had taken up to sitting at the table with them, to Willow, after having heard George’s question.</p><p>              “Just thinking about them,” Willow answered, an answer that seemed to confuse Fred slightly, although something that Willow could see George plainly understood. Respectfully, he did not ask any more questions regarding the matter; he could tell she was not in a mood for talking about her parents exactly; she didn’t want to start balling her eyes out in front of everyone, and he knew that.</p><p>              “Hey, Willow?” Fred spoke suddenly, an air of nerve present in his voice. Willow looked at him, a curious expression on her face. What did he want to ask? “Can we head out for a bit? I need to talk to you, alone.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Willow would have been lying if she had said she wasn’t absolutely terrified of what Fred had wanted to talk about. Typically speaking, the words <em>I need to talk to you alone </em>never really meant anything good, as Willow had learnt during her thirteen and a half years on earth, so when he broke down crying in the Courtyard only minutes later, Willow’s fears heightened quite considerably.</p><p>              “Fred?” She couldn’t help but remember that night after the first task in the Gryffindor common room as her, at least for the moment, boyfriend sat down on the edge of the fountain. He pet the spot beside him, signalling for Willow to sit with him. Timidly, she did so, before being engulfed in what could only be described as a bone-breaking embrace.</p><p>              “Fred –“</p><p>              “Sorry,” he apologised, loosening his hold of her slightly.</p><p>              “Fred, what’s the matter?”</p><p>              “I don’t understand how you don’t absolutely hate me –“</p><p>              “We’ve been over this,” Willow spoke sternly, forcing Fred’s arms off her. She could understand why he felt such a way; she probably would have felt the same if the roles had been reversed, but it had been a month now, that the two had been talking to one another. Hell, they were in a <em>relationship </em>now, no longer just friends; everything had been resolved. Granted they still hadn’t necessarily had an extended talk about the whole situation, but it was clear enough to understand; Fred was in love and jealous, which in Willow’s most humble opinion was a terrible mix of things to be, as both made people do potentially catastrophic things, although, fortunately, Fred had managed to get his head out of his ass in time to not cause any more damage.</p><p>              “But –“</p><p>              “No,” Willow quickly shut down. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. We’ve resolved everything, so there’s no point in bringing it all back up, and I don’t want this night to go terribly by any means; believe it or not I was actually quite excited for something like this, especially considering I could go with you.”</p><p>              “I’m sorry,” Fred apologised quickly, seeing the once poised expression on Willow’s face fall slightly. “I won’t bring it up again. I promise.”</p><p>              Willow most definitely had the urge to refute; Fred’s track record thus far with promises was not entirely the best ever. He was always making what seemed to be fairly simple promises, although each time he did he managed to break them one way or another. For the first time, though, Willow decided not to argue with him; she would ruin the night for the both of them if she did. Instead, she stood up and took Fred’s hands in hers, and together the two began to dance, the soft murmured lull of the music playing inside the Great Hall still just loud enough for them to hear.</p><p>              They did not speak for the whole hour that this went on; there was no need to, and by the end of their time dancing slowly together, Willow was smiling. Not only did she smile because, well, she was dancing with Fred, her <em>boyfriend</em>, and that in itself was a dream come true, but because it seemed to be that he was finally beginning to understand her more.</p><p>              There were a great many times, such as earlier in the Great Hall, where George could fully understand Willow, without the need for either of them to speak, and Willow could do the same quite sufficiently with him and to extension, Fred. But Fred had never quite managed to gain such a skill; not until this moment, anyway, it seemed.</p><p>              They did not return to the Great Hall after their silent dancing, instead heading straight up to the Gryffindor common room, where they sat for a half hour, cuddled close on the sofa by the fire, before Willow fell asleep. As soon as it was deep enough, Fred carefully lifted her into her arms, a slight struggle as she was heavier than she looked, but he smiled throughout nonetheless, as he carried his girlfriend upstairs and into his dormitory before slowly laying her down on his bed. He quickly covered her with the blankets, not wanting her to accidentally freeze in the middle of the night, before slipping into bed beside her and holding her close. He himself fell asleep not long later amidst lightly tracing the freckles dotted over Willow’s shoulders, a smile on his face; this was by far the happiest he had ever been in his entire life, and even though the events that led up to this moment weren’t the best, nor the most smooth-sailing, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>He could feel himself drifting between consciousnesses as the water surrounded him, the earlier consumed alcohol beginning to wear off with every breath he took. Sirius, in comparison to his tired husband, was wide awake, the alcohol having worn off some time ago, yet his heart still raced. He had been contemplating what he wanted to tell Remus for some time, many months for that matter, and it was something he had never thought, after sixteen years of marriage, that he would ever have even considered.</p><p>              He could still recall the day he had fallen in love with Remus clear as day. It was an evening in October during his fifth year when the realisation had finally struck him. He was comforting Remus after Lily had broken up with him, and he felt terrible considering he was actually glad that Remus and Lily were no longer together, and that was the moment he realised that he had subconsciously liked Remus for quite some time.</p><p>              October eighth of their sixth year was the day Remus confessed to loving Sirius and became the day the two began their more-than-friendly relationship, which lead to their wedding, exactly two years later, something that went blissfully undisturbed until Sirius’ twelve-year stint in Azkaban.</p><p>              Perhaps it was foolish of him, to think all those years that whenever they were reunited, they would be the same as they were prior to Sirius’ time in Azkaban; maybe if he hadn’t thought that way for so long things would be different, or maybe if things had been different in general, Sirius would not be considering what he had been so deeply contemplating for months.</p><p>              It would break Remus’ heart for sure, the moment he willed himself enough to say the words. Of course it would break Sirius’ heart too; Remus, in any case, was at least likely to move on and find someone new, while Sirius would rather resign himself to years of solitude. He could not imagine himself loving anyone other than his husband, and that’s what made it hurt all the more. On the same hand though, he did not ever want to fall out of love with his husband, and that would surely happen if things stayed as they were.</p><p>              Remus had changed considerably since the last time they had lived together, and it wasn’t the materialistic things that worried Sirius so much as his personality. The generality of it had stayed mostly the same throughout the years; he was still kind and loving, still a terrible morning person, but he had become much more anxious and stern over the years, most of which was due to Willow’s presence.</p><p>              Of course, Sirius did not blame Willow by any means; Remus was simply a father dedicated to loving and protecting his daughter to the best of his abilities, and Sirius could understand completely, after all, he wanted to do the same to Harry, and he could guarantee that if James were still around he too would be fiercely loving and protective of both his children. But, Sirius had also spent twelve years locked up in a seemingly inescapable prison, and all he wanted was a bit of freedom.</p><p>              They had already argued recently about this, Sirius and Remus; Remus was quite angry with Sirius that he wasn’t yet willing to take full responsibility of Harry, that he seemed to value freedom over family, which was most definitely not the case. If he had to, Sirius would drop everything to make sure Harry was alright twenty-four hours, seven days a week, but the fact of the matter was that Harry also had Remus now, so there wasn’t as much of a need for Sirius to hang around at the moment; as long as there was one of them, they would be okay, but Remus did not seem to understand this.</p><p>              “Remus,” Sirius finally spoke in a hushed tone. He almost felt bad because it was Christmastime, but he couldn’t live this way any longer. Perhaps one day the two could be together again, but for the moment, there togetherness wasn’t right.</p><p>              “Mm?” Remus hummed tiredly in response, wrapping his arms around Sirius tighter. God, he was making this difficult.</p><p>              “I want a divorce.”</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Remus had never felt such pain in his life after having heard those words. He almost hadn’t believed it when Sirius had said it, two weeks prior, but when Sirius brought it up a second time the following day, Remus knew then that what he had been saying was what he had wanted, and the moment he understood that, he stopped all communication with Sirius. At least, if they weren’t speaking to one another, a divorce could not possibly be finalised, but then again, at least with a divorce the two could speak to one another on a civil playing field again.</p><p>              Why had Sirius said such a thing though? And why had it been so out of the blue? Did it have to do with that argument they had? In which case, if it did, it would be proving Remus’ point exactly; that Sirius cared more for freedom than his own son.</p><p>              “Dad? You alright?” Willow asked, laying a hand on one of his. The two were in his office, Remus in amidst grading holiday homework papers whilst Willow was in the process of finishing her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework to submit. She had noticed his off mood for some time now. He had of course been trying to hide such a thing from everyone, but Willow noted the increase in aimless pacing around during the day, along with the lessening of eating and the odd earlier bed times.</p><p>              Remus didn’t exactly know how to answer Willow. He knew he couldn’t lie; one, because he was a terrible liar and two, because he knew quite well how observant she was and there was no doubt that she had seen the more subtle slips in his feigned happiness. But he couldn’t say anything about Sirius had said, could he? It would surely hurt her as much as it hurt him, if not more.</p><p>              “It’s something to do with you and Sirius, isn’t it?” Willow questioned, lightly squeezing the hand she had under hers. She knew Sirius hadn’t been meant to stay after the holidays, that he had meant to go home, but he was still hanging around the halls, albeit as a dog instead of a human, and even then he was quite secretive about it; Harry didn’t even know he was still here, although, in his defence, he also wasn’t the most observant creature in existence.</p><p>              At the mere mention of Sirius’ name, Remus began to tear up, and before long he had his head on the desk and was practically convulsing with each sob that left his body. It didn’t even take two seconds for Willow to stand up and wrap her arms around Remus; she felt bad, in all honesty, considering if she hadn’t mentioned Sirius this might not have happened. But on the other hand, whatever was going on needed to be talked about.</p><p>              “He said he wants a divorce,” Remus finally admitted tearfully, not bothering to look at his daughter; he hated her seeing him in such a state. “He said it on Christmas Eve after we left the ball, and then again on Christmas.”</p><p>              Quite frankly, Willow was shocked to hear the words come out of Remus’ mouth. Why ever did he want a divorce? They loved each other, they were soulmates even. That being said, she had overheard part of an argument the two had been having in the office at the start of December concerning Sirius’ lack of parental responsibility. Maybe it had something to do with that?</p><p>              “Do you know why he said that?”</p><p>              “Because he’s stupid,” Remus said, lightly pushing Willow off of him and standing from his desk before beginning to pace in circles around the office.</p><p>              “Dad, that’s not a reason –“</p><p>              “Well, then, it’s because he cares more for freedom than this fucking family!” he shouted quite suddenly before breaking down into more sobs as he began pulling at his hair. Willow had seen him have a plentiful amount of outbursts before, but nothing had ever come close to what she was witnessing at the moment. Within seconds Remus collapsed onto the floor, his hands gripped tightly to his hair as he began to rock back and forth with increasing intensity. Willow was at a complete loss of what to do, and she herself began to pace back and forth, trying to think of something to do to help Remus in some way whilst also calming the increasing anxiety she was beginning to fear.</p><p>              She soon approached him carefully, and slowly pulled his hands from his hair; she didn’t need him ripping it out anytime soon. She then cautiously sat him up against the wall before sitting down near him; she figured he could calm himself down with time, and that it was probably best for him to let his emotions out, considering he had kept them to himself for so long. As long as she was there to watch him and make sure he didn’t hurt himself in some way, she figured everything would be okay.</p><p>              It took a good half hour for Remus’ breath to return to a normal pace and for his mind to clear to a somewhat sensible degree, and it was at that moment he remembered Willow’s presence in the room, having completely forgotten she was there, in part due to his meltdown, something he had not suffered in quite some time, and in part due to how quiet she had kept throughout the whole ordeal.</p><p>              “I’m sorry,” he apologised, looking over tearfully at his daughter, who was sitting not too far from him on the floor.</p><p>              “It’s alright,” she assured, instantaneously moving to sit beside him against the wall. “Talk to him,” she then said. “I know you don’t what to, but you need to know why.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Remus asked as soon as Sirius entered the Living Quarters that night. He had been pacing endlessly for an hour at the very least, hands moving wildly as he tried to maintain some sort of level of calm. He could already imagine how this conversation would turn out; it was more than likely that the two would end up arguing, perhaps worse than what they had in December, as Remus’ emotions were very much heightened having held them back for three long weeks.</p><p>              “Why do you want an answer now?” Sirius questioned, crossing his arms after shutting the door behind him. Sirius himself was increasingly agitated with Remus’ avoidance of the situation and his lack of willingness to speak to him ever since mentioning the word ‘divorce’. This was one habit of Remus’ that Sirius absolutely hated – his constant avoidance of confronting situations unless there was a sense of urgency behind it – even though he knew there was a reason for that, and that Remus couldn’t necessarily help such a thing.</p><p>              “Just tell me why,” Remus sighed, the movement of his hands increasing with aggression as he paced faster around the room.</p><p>              “Because you care more about the children –“</p><p>              “Oh, so this is all about you then?” Remus came to a sudden halt, his breathing deep and his brows furrowed as he glared at Sirius. He couldn’t believe the absolute audacity of this man. Admittedly, sometimes Remus did focus much more on Willow and Harry than his own husband, he knew that, but it was those times when they needed him the most, and Remus, in the last two years, was a parent first and foremost, <em>not </em>a partner. “You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?”</p><p>              “Selfish am I?” Sirius questioned angrily. He wasn’t selfish! For one thing, he was taking this step to make things better for the both of them, which in his most humble opinion was the complete opposite of selfish. “Why? Just because I want some attention sometimes? Just because I want my needs heard every now and then?”</p><p>              “I do hear them!” Remus shouted, getting up close to Sirius’ face. Sirius swallowed nervously; he usually forgot just how much taller Remus was compared to him. He also forgot just how intimidating he was when angry like this, but now was not the time to cower.</p><p>              “When? I told you in December I wanted to get some sort of freedom and you said I wasn’t doing what was right for Harry and that I was caring more for myself than him –“</p><p>              “Because that’s what you’re doing!” Without having thought about it, Remus shoved Sirius against the wall of the Living Quarters. “It’s shit, I understand! You’ve spent twelve years in prison for something you didn’t do and as soon as you’re released you’re a parent, but that’s no excuse to put your needs first! He’s your son now, your responsibility –“</p><p>              “He’s fourteen! Three years and he’ll be an adult!”</p><p>              “And what, you think parenting stops once they hit that age?”</p><p>              “He doesn’t need me for everything –“</p><p>              “Yes he does!” Remus, absolutely furious, grabbed a hold of Sirius by the shirt and threw him to the ground. He was sure he would feel sorry about this later, but at the moment he couldn’t care less; in his mind, this is what Sirius deserved. “Parenting isn’t just about being there for the really good times or the absolutely fucking terrible times, Sirius! It’s a full-time job and it doesn’t just magically stop at a certain age! For fuck sake he needs you now more than ever!”</p><p>              “He’s got you too,” Sirius said weakly as he sat up, his head aching slightly.</p><p>              “Yes, but you’re his primary parent, much like I’m Willow’s! It’s your name on that form, it’s you that James chose for Harry to be cared for – actually, while we’re on that topic – how do you think James would feel about all this, huh? Wanting a bit of freedom more than taking care of his own son –“</p><p>              “Don’t you dare bring James into this!” Now it was Sirius’ turn to push Remus up against the wall, quickly having risen from the ground at the mention of his brother’s name.</p><p>              “And what about Lily? I’m sure she’d be very disappointed to see you taking such lack of care towards her son!”</p><p>              “I do care!” Sirius yelled before backing away and collapsing onto the bed in a mess of anguished sobs. Over and over he kept repeating the words as Remus began to breathe deeply, trying to reach a level of calm; he didn’t want to yell at Sirius again, for the moment at least. Sirius seemed to be deeply hurt over this. Quietly, Remus sat down beside Sirius on the bed and took him in his arms.</p><p>              “I’m sorry,” Remus whispered, holding Sirius tight whilst simultaneously stroking the long, tangled mess of curls on Sirius’ head. The ensuing half hour was mostly silent, void of shouting but with the exception of a sniffle or two from Sirius. Finally, after this half hour had passed, Sirius left Remus’ hold, wiped his tears and looked Remus in the eyes, grey into green.</p><p>              “I do care,” Sirius repeated. “I have cared ever since the moment Lily first announced that she was pregnant, and the night they died, those two were my first priority. I didn’t care that James was dead at the door, I didn’t care that I’d just watched Lily die; I cared about Harry and Willow and if they were okay or not.</p><p>              “And I am sorry. I get why you’re angry with me, and admittedly, maybe sometimes I would like a bit more freedom instead of having to have as much responsibility as I have to have, but whereas you had years to prepare for the responsibility of raising Willow, I had a year at best, and even then it was sheer luck that I was able to get out of Azkaban.”</p><p>              “You can’t prepare for parenthood, Sirius, no matter how many years you have,” Remus spoke quietly. He was still quite angry at Sirius, but for the sake of not hurting Sirius too much more, he would keep his voice down, for now. “Nothing in the world could have prepared me for the shit I’ve had to endure raising Willow for the past two years. I mean, fuck, not even six months into the job and I had to deal with the knowledge that my own child was being hurt in the worst way possible by a man seventeen years older than her – a man that was her teacher.</p><p>              “You can’t prepare, Sirius, but you can learn as you go, and part of that learning is learning that your own needs come second until that child reaches adulthood successfully. Even then sometimes your needs still come second.” Remus looked away for a moment, uncomfortable with the level of eye contact Sirius was maintaining.</p><p>              “Sorry,” Sirius apologised, turning away himself.</p><p>              “It’s alright,” Remus said before turning to look at him again. Sirius did not return the favour.</p><p>              “I know it’s hard for you to understand,” Sirius began with a sigh, “but I was stuck in a prison for close to twelve years. I think I deserve at least a bit of freedom. A few months is all I want at the very least.”</p><p>              “Promise you’ll at least be around for emergencies then,” Remus whispered. He still did not agree with what Sirius wanted, but he was beginning to, at least, understand why Sirius wanted such a thing.</p><p>              “Course,” Sirius promised. “Do you see now why I wanted a divorce, though?”</p><p>              “Yes,” Remus said. He could fully understand why he had said the words he had said. If they stayed together like this, sooner or later, they would likely kill each other; either that or they would ruin their relationship completely, and neither of the two wanted such a thing to happen. At the end of the day, they loved one another deeply, and that was something hard to find with another person. “When – when will we go? To the Ministry, I mean?”</p><p>              “February.”</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was calm, everything was peaceful. Willow sighed contentedly, her eyes closed and a smile on her face as she wrapped an arm around Fred’s waist as he, too, held her closer. Valentine’s Day; classes had long since finished, and the two were laid together on the soft yet slightly cold grass under the tree by the lake. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, and the stars were beginning to glisten in the ever-darkening sky. They had already had dinner; Fred had snuck some food outside for the two of them to eat, before they found themselves, cuddled up together, partially to keep each other warm as the cold of the winter’s night began to set in, but also because it had been some time since the two had been alone together.</p><p>              For much of the end of January and the first half of February, Fred had been spending a lot of time with George; Willow, not long after Christmas, had given the two quite a bit of money from her parents’ vault at Gringotts as they had been running low due to the increasing demand for supplies for the testing of joke shop items. She hadn’t ever touched the money in that vault, she didn’t find a need too, not until the twins came running to her to inform them of their problem. In such a case, Willow found it necessary to request that either Remus or Sirius head out and bring back, at the very least, a hundred galleons, as Willow and the twins were due to start selling the products in the next school year, to see what people liked and didn’t like, and to see what they could improve on. Of course, such a request confused the living daylights out of her fathers, but she did not elaborate, calling it a secret matter, and informing them that one day soon they would know why she needed it.</p><p>              Willow could have stayed like this forever, cuddled up in Fred’s arms, under the beech tree by the lake, if it hadn’t been for the calling of her name echoing from the distance. Willow sat up with an agitated huff, her arms automatically crossing over her chest.</p><p>              “Who is it?” Fred asked tiredly with a sigh of his own as he sat up beside Willow.</p><p>              “Dad,” Willow muttered, looking over to the hill, where the tall man was making his way down, an apologetic smile on his face as he made his way over to the couple. “What is it?”</p><p>              “Harry’s in the office with Sirius,” Remus explained. Willow was quiet as she tried to think about what this could mean, until she remembered something that had happened in the office a month prior. The discussion of divorce. With an understanding nod, Willow stood up. She turned quickly, to kiss Fred goodbye before following Remus up the hill and into the castle, upstairs to the office on the second-floor.</p><p>              Sirius was, quite uncharacteristically, pacing as Harry sat on the chair by the office desk. He was nervous, Sirius, and Willow had never seen him emit any emotion in his life, save for anything joyous, with the exception of the first task back in November. Willow sat down on the desk quite nonchalantly, almost bored with her surroundings; she knew what this was all about, and both Remus and Sirius knew she knew considering she had been the first to be told by Remus back in January, and Sirius had had his own talk with her not too long before. It seemed she was there more or less as emotional support for her brother, who no doubt was likely going to suffer a great bout of confusion from the news.</p><p>              “Remus and I went to the Ministry yesterday,” Sirius said, as soon as Remus had shut the office door.</p><p>              “Why?” Harry asked.</p><p>              “We’ve signed divorce papers,” Sirius said, looking over at Harry to see his reaction. He looked sufficiently confused at first, as the three others in the room had expected, which soon turned to what looked to be anger, then ultimately a fairly grief-stricken look.</p><p>              “But – but you –“ he began, struggling to find the words to say as he looked up at the two of them. Willow was quick to leap off the desk and stand by her brother, laying a hand on his shoulder for his comfort.</p><p>              “I know, it seems unexpected from your point of view but we’ve been wanting this for some time now,” Sirius explained. “We still love each other, that will never go away, and we’ll still live together, but at the moment we’re just not meant to be together. If we were to have stayed married we’d likely end up killing each other,” Sirius said with a slight chuckle and shake of the head. “Anyway, nothing’s changed is what I’m trying to say. Well, except he’s not shagging me every other day –“</p><p>              “Sirius!” Remus warned, slapping him on the arm, which only caused Willow to laugh. Harry did not laugh though, and upon closer inspection it looked as though he was close to tears. Sirius was quick to rush over to his son, kneeling on the ground in front of him and looking up at the boy.</p><p>              “I know you said nothing’s changed but –“ Harry began, a tear falling from one of his eyes.</p><p>              “Harry it’s alright to be upset,” Sirius assured, wiping away the tear sitting on Harry’s cheek. “Come here,” he said, standing up and pulling Harry into an embrace.</p><p>              In all honesty, Harry hadn’t much of an idea as to why this news had affected him as it did; as Sirius had said, nothing’s changed between them – they’d all still be the same family they had been on his fourteenth birthday. But as Sirius had also said, this was quite unexpected, from Harry’s point of view at least. He had always been under the impression that the two were quite happily married, especially over these last few months; Harry found himself wishing he had the observant abilities of his sister, considering she wasn’t fazed at all by the news.</p><p>              Sirius left Hogwarts at the end of the week, almost two months after he had initially planned on leaving. He would come back to watch the second task the next week, but aside from that, no one would see him again until June, for the third task, which Harry and Willow had both been told the date of in advance. It was strange in some way, for all of them, not to have Sirius around now, especially considering the circumstances; even Willow, who had known since January about such a change, had been affected by it all, which in turn led her to spending time with Cedric in the library again.</p><p>              “I think we should just stick with the Bubblehead Charm,” Willow concluded, the night before the second task. She and Cedric had spent another full day studying in the library for any potential water-breathing charms or objects he could use for the task that they had previously missed in November.</p><p>              “And you’ll think that’ll work?” Cedric questioned, a hint of nerve in his voice.</p><p>              “Like I’ve said before, it depends on how well you cast it, but I believe you can pull it off perfectly,” Willow assured, for once not teasing Cedric about his magic, considering this would likely only heighten his nerves. Cedric nodded his head and looked to the floor for a moment before looking up again, down the corridor of books, where he saw the Weasley twins quickly approaching, Hermione and Cho following suit.</p><p>              “Your boyfriends seem to be wanting you,” Cedric teased, nudging Willow lightly in the side. She rolled her eyes and scoffed yet smiled all the same.</p><p>              “Only <em>one </em>of them is my boyfriend, thank you very much, Diggory,” Willow sighed as she leapt off the desk she and Cedric were sitting at, or rather, the one Cedric was sitting at and the one she was sitting on.</p><p>              “Her Majesty requests your attendance in her office, milady,” Fred spoke poshly with an exaggerated bow. In a usual setting, Willow would have likely laughed, but this was not a usual setting. She turned to Cedric and looked at him nervously; she was to be put into the lake soon. Cedric grabbed a hold of her hand and squeezed it briefly before letting it go, a means to tell her all would be okay in the end. She nodded, assured yet still terrified, before leaving Cedric alone in the library and following the twins, Hermione and Cho.</p><p>              “What’s this even about, anyway?” Hermione asked as the group of five began making their way up to Professor McGonagall’s office.</p><p>              “The second task,” Willow blurted out before she could stop herself, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth. “I wasn’t meant to say that.”</p><p>              “Well, I’m sure they would have ended up telling us that sooner or later,” Hermione sighed. “Why do they need us for the task though?”</p><p>              “I can’t tell you that,” Willow quickly said before her mouth had the chance to explain the reason why they were all needed, minus the twins. “I know why – Cedric and I figured it out back in November after the first task – but I’ll get in trouble if I say anything.”</p><p>              The remainder of the walk up to the office was done in silence, and once they arrived at the door, the twins left the girls. Willow took in a quiet deep breath before mustering up the courage to open the door, and as she, Hermione and Cho entered the office, they were greeted by Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore, Ludo Bagman, Percy – for some unknown reason – and Fleur’s younger sister, Gabrielle Delacour.</p><p>              “Percy?” Willow questioned as soon as the office door closed behind her and the other girls.</p><p>              “Mr Crouch is unwell at the moment,” Percy explained sounding much more uptight than usual, if that was even possible, “so I shall be helping judge tomorrow’s task.”</p><p>              “Ah, yes, the task! I should explain, now that you’re all here,” Bagman said excitedly, an enthusiastic grin on his face as he summoned four chairs for the four girls to sit on. Hermione, Cho and Gabrielle all sat, Willow, on the other hand, refused. “Sit down, sit down!” Bagman offered, but Willow only crossed her arms over her chest.</p><p>              “Right, well,” Bagman said, eyes flittering around the room, seemingly a little embarrassed at the turned down offer. “Anyway,” he began, resuming his enthusiastic façade, “in this next task, our champions will have to collect their most prized possession –“</p><p>              “What’s that got to do with us?” Cho asked a little impatiently.</p><p>              “Well, you, my dear, are one of the champions’ most prized possessions,” Bagman explained causing Hermione to gasp.</p><p>              “You’re not – you’re not putting us in the lake, are you?” she questioned in disbelief. It seemed she knew that the task would be centred around the lake. Harry must have figured it out by now then, the lake aspect of it, anyway.</p><p>              “But of course!” Bagman exclaimed. “Now, of course, precautions will be taken to assure that no harm happens to any of you –“</p><p>              “You’re not putting me under there,” Willow said, crossing her arms tighter against her. She had had three months to prepare for this moment, or close to such a number anyway, but she still remained absolutely terrified. What if something went wrong with the spells? Or what if some sort of creature down there decided she would be a nice meal? Anything was possible.</p><p>              “But –“</p><p>              “Find someone else,” Willow said finally, making to leave the office, but as she tried to open the door she realised she was locked inside. “You can’t make me go down there!” she shouted angrily. “I’ll tell my father about this! He won’t let you –“</p><p>              But no more words could be said by her; someone in the room had stunned her. She did not know who it was although she suspected that it had been Bagman, not that she could do anything about, as not even seconds later, the world around her went dark.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Fred, have you seen Willow this morning?” George asked worriedly. The two were on their way down to the lake in amidst the large crowd of students that had decided to come down to watch the second task. George had had intentions of seeing Willow after her visit to McGonagall’s office the night before; they hadn’t had a talk with one another in a while, and he was curious to see if she knew anything more concerning this whole Voldemort situation, or if she had any more evidence concerning Karkaroff allegedly having put Harry’s name into the goblet. But she never returned from McGonagall’s office, nor had Hermione and Cho Chang, and he was strongly suspecting something not so favourable was happening to the three of them.</p><p>              “Not yet. I’m sure she’s around somewhere; probably with Harry, wherever the bloody hell he is,” Fred replied quite nonchalantly. He was usually far less concerned about Willow’s whereabouts, something George found quite odd especially considering the two were a couple now; he thought he’d at least be a bit more worried for the girl’s safety. Although, with all that being said, Fred had no idea about this whole Voldemort situation, so it was no wonder he wasn’t as concerned. After all, ever since George had first heard of it – ever since he and Charlie had found her so close to death at the Quidditch World Cup – he had become much more protective of her.</p><p>              With a sigh the siblings reached the edge of the lake and sat down by Ron, or rather, Fred did. George was too nervous to take a seat, instead resigning to go off for a walk to try and clear his head and reach a level of calm. He walked back in the direction of the castle for a few minutes, to get away from the crowd, and as he did, in the distance, he heard the sound of the crowd cheering quite loudly; the task had begun, the champions were in the water. George sighed, his eyes darting around wildly every few moments, searching hopefully for any sign of Willow’s presence in the area, but minutes passed and none made themselves clear.</p><p>              As he walked his mind wandered many places, all focused around Willow. He had been so eager to talk to Willow again; they had barely talked ever since she and Fred had fixed their issues and become a couple, and George would be lying if he hadn’t said he wasn’t jealous. Of course, he did not show his jealousy as Fred did; he didn’t want to hurt Willow – he loved her more than anything, after all – and he did not want to make her feel terrible for being happy like Fred had all those months, even if, technically speaking, she wasn’t too happy being in that relationship with Neville.</p><p>              George hadn’t realised just how much he had missed Willow until this time, and he was quite upset that it had taken him so long to realise such a thing. He had spent much of his time over the last months quite distracted from her; she had been so busy with her own dealings with Fred and her studies with Cedric and whatever else she was getting up to these days, and he was quite caught up in business dealings, along with his brief relationship with Angelina, which had ended quite amicably two weeks prior, a few days before Valentine’s Day.</p><p>              “Is that Fred or is that George?” a voice called from the distance, causing George to whip his head around in the direction of the castle. Professor Lupin was making his way towards him.</p><p>              “George,” he answered, turning to face the professor as he came to a halt in front of him.</p><p>              “I’d’ve thought you’d be with your brothers and sister?” Lupin said, a kind smile on his face. “Worried about Willow’s whereabouts though, I suppose.”</p><p>              “How did you –“</p><p>              “You love her, don’t you?”</p><p>              “Professor –“</p><p>              “Yes I’m well aware she’s in a relationship with your brother,” Lupin said as he began to walk back and forth in the same line George had been walking; he signalled for the sixth year to follow. “Your eyes give it away, as do hers.”</p><p>              “What are you saying?” George questioned. Willow couldn’t possibly have feelings for him, right?</p><p>              “Well, don’t get me wrong, she and Fred do wonderful together, but I can’t help thinking she’s gone for the wrong one,” Lupin explained, still smiling. “I’m sure she’ll realise in time.”</p><p>              “Huh,” was all George could say to what his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had said. He still didn’t entirely believe Willow, of all people, could possibly retain some sort of feeling that was above those of friendship towards him, although considering the words had come from her father, he was slightly more inclined to believe such a thing.</p><p>              “I haven’t seen her, by the way,” Lupin sighed as he decided to take a seat on the cold grass below; he was quite worried too, about the location of his daughter. “Sit down,” he offered, looking up at George. “There’s not much walking around for an hour can do.”</p><p>              George took up the professor’s offer and sat down on the grass near him. He looked down at the grass, ripping a few pieces away in amidst his increasing worry. Even Professor Lupin hadn’t seen her. Where could she be? With a deep breath, he looked over at the lake; the champions still hadn’t returned, and that was when it hit him. The previous night, he had heard Willow mention to Hermione and Cho that the reason they were heading to McGonagall’s office was because it had to do with the second task –</p><p>              “She’s in the lake,” George whispered, standing suddenly, hands running through his hair. This was bad; Willow couldn’t swim, or at least, not very well, and she was obviously deep under the surface of the water, considering the champions still hadn’t returned. What if she didn’t make it out of their alive? What if Harry couldn’t get to her in time?</p><p>              “She’s – what?” Lupin questioned, fear present in his voice, standing up again just as quick, if not quicker than George had. The two looked at one another for only the briefest of seconds before both were sprinting down, through the crowds, to the edge of the lake.</p><p>              Everything was dark; she couldn’t open her eyes. It was as if they had been sewn shut – and the world around her was cold and strangely wet in feeling. She was strongly reminded of her time in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of her first year. More specifically it reminded her of when she was lying on the stone ground as she quickly bled out due to the Basilisk bite she had taken to prevent Harry’s premature demise. The scars on her torso twinged slightly as the image of the Basilisk bearing down on her sprouted once more in her mind.</p><p>              She tried to take in a deep breath, to calm herself down as the image became more and more vivid, but all she seemed to inhale was water, which caused her to choke, leading her to swallow more water in the end. She now knew where she was, in the lake, and the arm that she quite suddenly became aware of wrapped tight around her was Harry’s. He was swimming up – she could feel it – although not very fast. All she could do was pray that he reached the surface before she drowned.</p><p>              Up on the shoreline, Remus and George were waiting nervously as the champions popped out of the water, one by one. Fleur was the first, although she had not been able to save her sister, the name of which she kept repeating as she sobbed, obviously quite worried that she would never see her again. Viktor Krum surfaced next with Hermione, both of which quickly made their way to the edge of the lake, Hermione receiving a blanket and a strong embrace from Ron.</p><p>              Cedric came up third with Cho Chang, although had left her in the water as he sprinted up to where George was standing.</p><p>              “Is she back yet?” he asked, heaving as he tried to catch his breath. George shook his head, a solemn expression on his face, before he felt Lupin nudge him in the side. Behind Cedric, he looked to the lake – Cedric also turned round to see what was happening; the crowd was cheering as three heads popped up out of the water. Harry was swimming to the edge of the lake as fast as he could, Fleur’s younger sister in one arm, and Willow in the other.</p><p>              Remus and the twins had been the first down to the area at the edge of the lake where Harry had swum to, followed closely by Fleur and Sirius, who was quick to wrap a blanket around Harry and hold his hair out of his face as he proceeded to vomit up all the water he had ingested whilst swimming up to the surface. The twins did much a similar thing to Willow before she fell, exhausted, into George’s arms. A slight pang of jealousy crossed over Fred’s face, although quickly faded as he was far more concerned about his girlfriend’s health than who’s arms she was in.</p><p>              “I have to – is Cedric –“ Willow began to ask worriedly, tears falling down her face.</p><p>              “It’s alright, Wills, I’m here,” Cedric assured, sitting on the muddy ground beside George, a blanket now wrapped around him. Willow held out a hand for him to hold, of which he did, as Ludo Bagman began to speak over the crowd.</p><p>              “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision,” he began, the crowd of excited students quickly silencing themselves. “Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions as follows: Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubblehead Charm, was attacked by Grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.”</p><p>              “I deserved zero,” Willow heard Fleur mutter under her breath.</p><p>              “Cedric Diggory,” Bagman continued, “who also used the Bubblehead Charm, was second to return with his hostage, though he returned minutes outside the time limit of an hour. We therefore award him forty points.” Willow squeezed Cedric’s hand briefly; a means of congratulating him. “Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was first to return with his hostage. We award him forty-seven points.</p><p>              “Harry Potter used Gillyweed to great effect. He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own. Most of the judges feel that this shows moral fibre and merits full marks. However, Mr. Potter’s score is forty-five points. The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June. The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”</p><p>              “Back to the dormitory then?” George asked quietly as the crowd began to talk wildly once more. Willow nodded before he lifted her up carefully, then proceeding to walk up to the castle, Fred trailing beside the two. Once there, he laid her down slowly on Fred’s bed, and was about to leave as Fred had done seconds before, to let her sleep, when she grabbed a hold of his hand.</p><p>              “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling him down to face her before kissing him quickly on the cheek. George smiled and nodded at her before walking out of the room, Willow having let go of his hand. The day had started terribly, in George’s own opinion, but this, well, this made up for all the bad experienced throughout the day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Midnight, and the air on the Quidditch Pitch was crisp and cold. Willow and Cedric were sitting on the grass, her head rested on his lap as the two caught their breaths after their hour of flying, something that had become an almost nightly tradition since the second task.</p><p>              It was now nearing the end of May, and the majority of Willow’s last weeks since the second task had been spent with Cedric and Harry, teaching them different defensive spells in preparation for whatever they may have to face in their third task. Willow knew already what it was – a maze full of potentially dangerous creatures – but she had not told either of the boys. They would find out in little under twenty-four hours now, after all, so even if she had wanted to, there was not much point in doing such a thing.</p><p>              “Why do you think Harry’s name got in the goblet?” Cedric asked, suddenly and quietly, beginning to lightly run his fingers through Willow’s hair.</p><p>              “Odd of you to ask that now,” Willow sighed, closing her eyes, exhaustion finally catching up to her. “It’s been, what, seven months since that happened?”</p><p>              “I know, it’s just, strange is all.”</p><p>              “His name got into the goblet because You-Know-Who’s coming back,” Willow said, not bothering to hold back such secret information with Cedric; it was about time he knew, after all. Cedric couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t being serious, was she? It seemed though she was, as her eyes flickered open and he was met with one of her deadly glares. He stopped laughing immediately, and instead a look of great fear made itself present on his face. She was being serious then.</p><p>              “I’m not sure what Harry’s got to do with all this just yet and why he’s had one of his Death Eaters put his name in the goblet, but I know he wants me,” Willow admitted, looking much softer into Cedric’s grey eyes in comparison to the glare she had given him.</p><p>              “What are you going to do about it?” Cedric asked, deeply concerned for his friend’s safety.</p><p>              “Do the only logical thing, I suppose; when he comes looking for me, I’ll be waiting,” Willow said with a sigh. “Don’t go telling anyone though. You can talk to George if it upsets you by any means; he’s the only one who actually knows what I plan to do – the others I’ve told only know what’s happening at the moment.”</p><p>              “Who else have you told?”</p><p>              “Dad, Sirius, Harry and Draco.”</p><p>              “You haven’t told Fred?” Cedric questioned, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment in his voice.</p><p>              “I’m not obliged to tell him everything,” Willow said. “I mean, I understand, it’s probably important I tell him but, well, he’s not as easy to predict as the others. Dad and Sirius are always going to be nice about whatever, Harry was the one who sort of told me initially, Draco I’ve grown up with and George – well – I don’t know – I guess he’s just more willing to listen and think instead of Fred who’s more of a talk now, think later.”</p><p>              “Why aren’t you with him then? George, I mean. He seems to understand you more, and you like him well enough.”</p><p>              “I do not like him!” Willow sat bolt upright, a few hairs leaving her head with force having forgotten, in that second, that Cedric’s fingers were entwined with them. “Not like what you’re implying, anyway.”</p><p>              “Bullshit!” Cedric exclaimed with a scoff. “You tell him everything that’s of utmost importance, you tell him all your deepest secrets and whatever else, and the way you look at him would make someone think you two are already together, and the way he eyes you off when you’re not looking at him doesn’t help those thoughts.”</p><p>              “What are you saying?” Willow asked, standing up and helping Cedric on his feet.</p><p>              “I’m saying,” Cedric began as the two started to make their way back up to the castle in the dim moonlight, “that if you two aren’t married with kids by the time I’m dead, I’ll personally come back to haunt you, and I can guarantee, you won’t like it.”</p><p>              “Well, haunt me all you like in that case, because we’re just friends, and that isn’t going to change anytime soon.”</p><p>              Even though at the time she was willing to pass it off as nothing, when Cedric had brought things up about her and George, lying in bed an hour later her mind was stirring. He wasn’t wrong, in what he had said, about her feelings concerning him. This year had definitely put them into question, ever since the World Cup when he had complimented her in the stadium, and it was ever since the second task, when she had courageously decided to kiss George on the cheek – a thank you for all that he’d done for her thus far – that she had realised that perhaps all her questioning at the World Cup did mean something, and that something was that she loved George Weasley, much more than anyone else in the world.</p><p>              Willow sighed as she rolled on her side, a tear rolling down one of her cheeks and onto the bed. She would be lying if she had said she didn’t feel bad for Fred; at least he didn’t have to know that she loved his own twin brother more than him just yet, but one day, she knew she would have to talk to him about such a thing, sooner or later. Of course, she loved Fred too, almost as much as she loved George; almost, though, not just as.</p><p>              <em>Why does it all have to be so hard? </em>Willow thought, her brows furrowing in anger. She almost thought she’d be better off to just resign herself to being single for the rest of her life, perhaps live the life of a hermit in a small, lonely hut by the sea; she’d come round for tea on Sundays, but aside from that, she would live in complete solitude. But she couldn’t do that; she had family and friends, and she could never forget any of them permanently. She would just have to accept the fact that, one day in the future, she was going to have to break another boyfriend’s heart.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“What d’you reckon it’s going to be?” Willow heard Cedric ask Harry the following night as the two of them began making their way down to the Quidditch Pitch. Willow was ready to go for another night of flying with Cedric, until she remembered, as soon as she had made it outside, what day it was; the day the champions would find out what the third task was. Too late to walk back up the steps of the castle, as Cedric and Harry were making their way down, she turned into a wolf and decided to follow them for entertainment purposes; she had nothing better to do, anyway.</p><p>              “Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels; she reckons we’ve got to find treasure,” Cedric continued, walking in line with Harry, Willow trailing not far behind them.</p><p>              “That wouldn’t be too bad,” Harry said as they reached the Quidditch Pitch, which was now covered in great hedges.</p><p>              “What’ve they done to it?” Cedric said, his voice a slightly higher pitch as he crossed his arms, horrified.</p><p>              “They’re hedges,” Harry observed, having walked onto the pitch to examine the growths.</p><p>              “Hello there!” Ludo Bagman called from the middle of the pitch; Viktor Krum and Fleur were already standing by him. “Well, what d’you think? Growing nicely, aren’t they? Give them a month and Hagrid’ll have them twenty feet high. Don’t worry, you’ll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we’re making here?”</p><p>              “Maze,” Krum murmured.</p><p>              “That’s right! A maze. The third task’s really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks.”</p><p>              “We simply ‘ave to get through the maze?” Fleur questioned, crossing her arms, shivering slightly; summer was on the horizon, but the nights were still fairly cold.</p><p>              “There will be obstacles. Hagrid is providing a number of creatures … then there will be spells that must be broken … all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze, but you’ll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?” Not one person agreed. “Very well … if you haven’t got any questions, we’ll go back up to the castle, shall we, it’s a bit chilly.”</p><p>              “Could I haff a vord?” Krum asked Harry as Bagman, Fleur and Cedric all made their way back to where they needed to be. This was very interesting – Krum wanting to talk to Harry – and perhaps a bit worrisome, in Willow’s opinion, and it seemed Harry was a bit concerned himself, as he looked quite surprised when the two started walking towards the forest. Willow, wary for her brother’s safety, followed along quietly.</p><p>              “I vant to know,” Willow heard Krum say as she slipped past the two into the edge of the forest, “vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny.”</p><p>              “Nothing,” Harry answered truthfully. Willow felt as though she could laugh. Harry and Hermione? Impossible! They were more like siblings than anything else, like her and Draco. “We’re friends. She’s not my girlfriend and she never has been. It’s just that Skeeter woman making things up.”</p><p>              “Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often.”</p><p>              “Yeah, because we’re friends.”</p><p>              “You haff never … you haff not –“</p><p>              “No.”</p><p>              Quite fortunately, Krum seemed to accept this answer, as the two proceeded to start talking about Quidditch, and Willow would have been more than happy to listen in more to this part of the conversation, but her ears pricked up and swivelled round to the side; someone else was in the forest. The two boys also soon noticed and turned to see who was walking through the trees, the figure soon revealing itself as Bartemius Crouch, Percy’s boss, talking to a tree.</p><p>              “… and when you’ve done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve –“</p><p>              “Mr. Crouch?” Harry asked cautiously.</p><p>              “– and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she’s bringing, now Karkaroff’s made it a round dozen … do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will –“</p><p>              “Mr. Crouch, are you alright?”</p><p>              “Vot is wrong with him?” Krum questioned, mildly concerned.</p><p>              “No idea. Listen, you’d better go and get someone –“</p><p>              “Dumbledore!” Crouch suddenly gasped, grasping at Harry’s robes. “I … need … see … Dumbledore …”</p><p>              “Okay, if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the –“</p><p>              “I’ve done … stupid … thing … must … tell … Dumbledore …”</p><p>              “Get up, Mr. Crouch. Get up, I’ll take you to Dumbledore!”</p><p>              A few more words were exchanged between Harry and the raving lunatic that was Crouch at the moment, before, once more, he was conversing with the tree.</p><p>              “You stay here with him!” Harry instructed Krum, beginning to run up the slight incline towards the castle. “I’ll get Dumbledore, I’ll be quicker, I know where his office is!”</p><p>              “I … escaped … must warn … must tell … see Dumbledore … my fault … all my fault … Bertha … dead … all my fault … my son … my fault … tell Dumbledore … Harry Potter … the Dark Lord … stronger … Harry Potter –“</p><p>              But whatever else Crouch wanted to say ceased to never leave his lips, as, from the distance, someone stunned Krum before the same person sent a bolt of green light Crouch’s way, hitting him in the shoulder, causing him to fall limp to the ground. Willow was half-tempted to check on the man, even though she knew he was dead, until remembering there was still someone in the forest with her, someone deadly.</p><p>              For a brief moment, she saw the face of the man who had just murdered Crouch, and Willow almost collapsed when she realised that, for all these months, her suspicions had been right; Bartemius Crouch Jr <em>was </em>still alive, and he <em>had </em>escaped Azkaban. Quickly, the Death Eater transfigured his father’s body into a mere bone, before burying it and hurrying off, the voice of Dumbledore becoming increasingly clearer.</p><p>              “Professor!” Willow said, tears in her eyes as she turned human again, rushing over to the Headmaster who was being lead to the forest by her brother. Harry looked at her in disbelief; had she been there the whole time? “Professor, Crouch – he’s been – he was killed by his – he was killed by his son! I saw him – he want back into the forest – he –“</p><p>              “Potter, I’d like you to head back up to the castle –“</p><p>              “But –“</p><p>              “Go now. If what you have just said is true, then it is quite dangerous for you to be out here at this time.”</p><p>              He was right; the Death Eater was sure to have seen Willow now, which would definitely present problems in the near future. Following his orders, Willow sprinted back up to the castle as fast as her legs could carry her, and into the twins’ dormitory – she had to talk to George, and she had to talk to him now.</p><p>              Fortunately for her, it was only just past nine, and he was still wide awake in comparison to his sleeping twin, which left Willow able to climb through the curtains and onto the bed without disturbing him.</p><p>              As soon as she was sitting beside him she was shaking like a leaf in the wind and sobbing as quietly as she could, her hands clasped over her mouth and her chest was rising high and falling deeply with every breath she took. George was immediate in wrapping his arms around the girl and holding her to him tight, her head tucked neatly underneath his own as he began to steadily rock her back and forth, a hand trailing through her hair as he tried to calm her down as best as possible.</p><p>              “He’s alive – I was right – in the forest,” Willow managed to whisper. “He’ll know where to find me –“</p><p>              She did not say anything more though, as George held her closer, and not a second later did she feel something fall onto her head; he was crying. She said nothing about this though – she did not want to – instead, resigning to cry quietly with George, both knowing exactly what fate lay ahead for her; she had no choice now, she would have to give herself to Voldemort.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So what happens now?” Remus asked as he paced around the office. Sirius and George were both present with Willow, having both arrived to hear Willow’s most recent slice of news. It had been a month since Crouch’s death – the third task was to be held that night – and Willow had refused to leave the castle since that fateful day to keep herself safe, although it seemed that Harry’s most recent dream had confirmed that Bartemius Crouch Jr did in fact know where to find Willow now, and as soon as Harry had decided to tell her of such a dream, she was straight up to Remus’ office with George; Sirius was summoned by Floo only minutes later.</p><p>              “I decided back in September, on the train, what to do,” Willow began, moving closer to George and taking hold of one of his hands for comfort. “The safest option is to give myself to him, like he wants me to.”</p><p>              “Willow –“</p><p>              “Dad, it’s the only way it’ll protect all of you. He’ll kill you all if I refuse; try to get me into his little Dark Arts club by force – and – I’m sorry – but if he’s coming back a war is bound to begin and Harry and I can’t have everyone we love – everyone we need – dying on us, do we?”</p><p>              “I suppose not,” Remus said with a grimace. As unhappy and absolutely terrified as he was with the prospect of Willow joining the Death Eaters, she was right; Harry and Willow didn’t need any of them dying anytime soon, especially considering Harry was the one, in the end, that needed to defeat the Dark Lord. A lack of emotional stability was the last thing they needed.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Willow had to admit, it was quite terrifying going outside for the first time in a month, especially considering night was beginning to dawn upon them all. Her only assurance that evening was that Fred and George were by her side and that both were willing to protect her if needed, even if the former had no idea that she just may need such a thing.</p><p>              They arrived down at the Quidditch Pitch safely, where the twins found seats in the stands for the three, as Willow went over to where the champions stood, to wish them all luck. Fleur and Krum both accepted her well-wishes graciously, meanwhile Cedric and Harry seemed to ignore them, both too terrified to focus on anything other than the question of if they would meet their deaths in the maze or not.</p><p>              “You’ll be fine,” Willow assured them both. “I’ve prepared the two of you as much as possible.”</p><p>              “But what if –“</p><p>              “But nothing, Cedric,” Willow said, before taking him aside. “Look, if it makes you feel any better,” she began, her voice low, almost a whisper, “I love George, alright?” Immediately she saw a smile appear on Cedric’s face, one that was absolutely screaming the look of <em>I told you so</em>, which in return caused Willow to slap him on the arm. “You’re not to say anything, to anyone, understand?”</p><p>              “Course,” Cedric said, still grinning like he’d just one the Quidditch World Cup. Willow shook her head, a smile on her face nonetheless, as the two walked back over to Harry, where Willow then went straight into assuring that the two were completely prepared for the task ahead.</p><p>              “You’ve both got your wands?” she asked quite seriously.</p><p>              “You got yours?” Harry asked. It was meant as a joke, by the way he was grinning so mischievously, but as soon as he had said the words Willow’s eyes widened and her serious expression fell. She’d left her wand in her dormitory; she’d been in a rush to leave for the task. Being wandless in a time where Voldemort was hunting her was <em>not </em>an ideal situation to be in.</p><p>              “Shit!” she exclaimed, hands clasping over her mouth. “Fucking hell, Harry –“</p><p>              “If you’re quick –“</p><p>              “Yeah, alright. If I’m not back in ten minutes –“</p><p>              “Alright, just go!”</p><p>              And so, she was off, sprinting as fast as she could back to the castle, except, she never actually made it back to the castle in the first place, and such a thing was noticed when, after eight minutes or so, Ludo Bagman was announcing the start of the task, and Willow was still not back sitting with the twins.</p><p>              George was, as usual, the first to notice Willow’s sudden disappearance, and seemed to be, at the moment at least, the only one that really cared. Quickly, he made his way down to Harry; he had last seen her with him after all so he should know where she was.</p><p>              “She went to get her wand from the common room, I thought she was with you again,” Harry explained, his eyes flickering with increasing fear as he realised Willow had not yet returned. “Where –“ Harry began to ask, but the whistle blew, signalling that it was his time to enter the maze.</p><p>              “Find her,” were the last words he said to George before entering the maze, and find her he would, if it was the last thing he’d do. With all hope, she might have been in the castle somewhere; perhaps she was held up there by one of the professors that hadn’t left the castle yet. He searched extensively in every place in the castle he thought she could be, but nothing. It seemed she hadn’t even been there in the first place especially when, at long last, George finally decided to search her dormitory, where he found her rose-engraved wand lying so nonchalantly on her bed. He picked it up immediately and put it in his pocket where his own wand was being held before heading outside and searching the grounds for any signs, but nothing ever showed up. It was then when he sprinted back down to the Quidditch Pitch and up to the stands where Lupin was seated.</p><p>              “Remus,” he started, a great sense of urgency in his voice. He couldn’t be bothered, in that second, to use his more professional name, after all, the fact that they were still in a school setting at the moment did not matter to George – what mattered was that Willow was gone, and by no fault of her own.</p><p>              “What’s happened? Where is she?” Remus questioned, grabbing a hold of the boy’s shoulders and shaking him lightly, searching for an answer. He knew as soon as George had run to him and Sirius, who was sitting beside him, that there was a problem.</p><p>              “I don’t know,” George said, quickly feeling tears prickling at the edge of his eyes, his heart now beating a million miles an hour, not only being out of breath from all the running he had to endure but because, well, the love of his life had disappeared without a trace. “Harry said she’d gone to get her wand and – and –“ he was trying his best to hold back the urge to start openly weeping; he’d never felt so scared in his life. Anything could be happening to Willow at the moment, after all, and she could have even been dead for all he knew. “I don’t know – I found her wand where she left it – but she – I don’t know – she’s gone and – and – it’s my fault.”</p><p>              That was when George finally cracked, uttering the word <em>it’s my fault</em>. He sure felt as though it was; he had promised himself that he would watch over her and make sure she was safe and the moment he took his gaze off her for a few seconds she had disappeared.</p><p>              “It isn’t your fault, George,” Remus assured, pulling the boy into a hug; he wasn’t usually one to hug his students although at the current moment, he was not presenting himself as one; at the moment he was simply a boy, upset at himself, because someone he loved had gone missing and feeling as though it was his fault for such a thing.</p><p>              “I’ll tell Dumbledore,” Sirius spoke quietly. He too was afraid, although not only for Willow’s sake, but for Harry’s; there was no telling if the same fate lied ahead for Harry or not. Remus nodded before turning his attention back to George, who was still evidently very distraught, having begun to shake slightly in Remus’ arms.</p><p>              “She’ll be alright,” he said quietly, simultaneously trying to assure the both of them. Remus, of course, was also quite frankly terrified, and he, too, felt a strong urge to burst into tears, although did not do such a thing as it was his duty, at the moment, to assure that George reached a relatively acceptable level of calm.</p><p>              Contrary to what Remus and George were both hoping, Willow, was, in fact, the complete opposite of alright. She had awoken, having been stunned and what appeared to be kidnapped on her way to the castle, in what looked to be a graveyard, and she was bound to a headstone by ropes of some sort.</p><p>              Initially, she had been quite terrified considering the predicament she was in, but that fear soon subsided and instead turned into a feeling of acceptance; she had been kidnapped by Bartemius Crouch Jr, after all, so the assumption could be made that Voldemort was likely hanging around somewhere, which meant she was going to have to accept the fact that sooner rather than later, she would be required to give herself up to him.</p><p>              “Awake now are we?” her kidnapper said from a distance. Willow, squinting her eyes, saw the figure in the dark sitting on the grass, leaned up against another gravestone, a strange bundle in his arms.</p><p>              “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?” Willow said with a sigh of increasing boredom. “So are we going to get on with it or am I to wait here until further notice?”</p><p>              “Bit of a mouth on you, isn’t there?” the Death Eater said, rising from the ground. “No, my dear. We must wait until your brother arrives. He is, after all, very important in the task that must be undertaken.”</p><p>              “Ooh, very nice. Would you like to invite my father too? We could have a nice little family reunion,” Willow smirked; she could see the anger in her kidnapper rising, this was getting quite entertaining. Perhaps if she tried hard enough, he might even get so annoyed with her that he lets her go. “How much is it going to take for you to let me go? Because I could keep doing this all –“</p><p>              “Quiet!” Crouch barked, rounding on the girl, coming face-to-face with her. He didn’t look as bad as Willow thought he would, although there were great bags beginning to form under the man’s dark eyes; the Dark Lord had been keeping him busy, it seemed.</p><p>              “Am I annoying you?” Willow teased. “My sincerest apologies –“</p><p>              “I said quiet you little bitch!” he snapped, pulling a wand from his pocket and pointing it at the girl.</p><p>              “You know, last time I checked, I was actually taller than you –“</p><p>              “Barty, no,” a voice hissed warningly. It had come from the bundle in Crouch’s arms. “She’s not to be disposed of; she’s important to the cause.”</p><p>              “My, the Dark Lord, is it really you? Goodness you look, well, <em>different</em>,” Willow spoke bravely; she might as well have fun with it all while it lasted.</p><p>              “On second thought –“ Voldemort began, before being interrupted by the sound of a loud crack.</p><p>              “Where are we?” Harry’s voice then echoed in the distance. Willow’s playful demeanour quickly faded into one of great fear. He said ‘we’; Harry was not alone.</p><p>              “Did anyone tell you the cup was a Portkey?” Cedric’s voice asked, the look of dread on Willow’s face causing Crouch to emit a half-laugh.</p><p>              “A friend of yours, is he?” Crouch whispered with a smirk, similar to the one Willow had on her face only seconds ago. “Well, we can’t have him hanging around, can we?”</p><p>              “Is this supposed to be part of the task?” Harry asked as he and Cedric began to walk closer to where Willow, Crouch, and the bundle that was Voldemort were in the graveyard.</p><p>              “ I dunno –“</p><p>              “Cedric get out of here!” Willow shouted suddenly, beginning to thrash against the headstone as she tried to escape the ties that bound her, but it was no use. Filled with curiosity, both Cedric and Harry continued to walk closer still, soon meeting the eye of Bartemius Crouch Jr.</p><p>              And then, as if a snake were hissing, the bundle in Crouch’s arms said three simple words, “Kill the spare.”</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>December, and the snow outside was falling in leaps and bounds. Classes had been cancelled that day, due to the increased volume of snow in the area; Dumbledore had decided it was quite an appropriate day for the students to all head out on the grounds for a day in the snow, if they so pleased. Willow had just come back from the forest, having brought a few old blankets for Sirius – she did not want him to freeze too badly out there – when she had run into him. He had just left the broom shed, having returned his broom from a snow-day practice when he had seen her in the distance, having transformed human only seconds before, and called her over. It was the first of many afternoons where the two sat by the Quidditch Pitch, talking for sometimes hours on end.</em>
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  <em>              “What do you think you’ll do after Hogwarts? Something to do with Quidditch I suppose?” Willow had asked, a smile on her face. She had been imagining, nine years from then, when the four-hundred and twenty-fourth Quidditch World Cup was being held; Cedric was Captain and Seeker of the English team, while Oliver Wood was one of the Chasers. </em>
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  <em>              “Well, the English team would be great, but I’ll probably try to get into one of the local teams first,” Cedric replied, a similar smile on his face. His grey eyes had been alight with wonder and imagination, and Willow could see, in that moment, that Cedric had been imagining a similar image as herself.</em>
</p><p>              But that would never happen.</p><p>              “Kill the spare,” Voldemort had ordered, and so, wand pointed straight at Cedric’s chest, Crouch uttered the words, “Avada Kedavra!” and all Willow could do was watch in slow-motion as the jet of bright green light hit Cedric squarely in the chest, the two friends staring one another in the eyes, green into grey, shock and horror written all over their faces before the older one fell limply to the ground below.</p><p>              “You – fucking – bastard!” Willow screamed, her voice almost going hoarse and her eyes overflowing with tears as they flickered from Cedric to Crouch to Voldemort. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you, you fucking bastard!”</p><p>              “Release her and bound him up,” Voldemort instructed, the ropes around Willow evaporating away before she ran the few steps over to Cedric. She knelt down beside him and held onto one of his hands; he was still warm, yet the blood inside his body had become stagnant.</p><p>              “Cedric,” she whispered, letting her head fall onto his chest and holding his hand up to her hair. “Cedric, please,” she begged, tears streaming down her face much faster than before as she began to shake, agonising sobs now beginning to leave her body. Back and forth she began to rock, her head on his chest and his hand still pressed firmly against her hair as she mourned for him.</p><p>              “You’ve got so many things to do, Cedric,” she said, talking to him as if that would help now, as if it would magically bring him back to life. “The World Cup and – and – George and I – and – you were supposed to marry Cho when you left Hogwarts, remember? You told me after the Ball – you said you both agreed to it – you said you wanted to get married the week out of Hogwarts like my mum and dad did – and you said – you wanted – you were going to have your first child after you played your first World Cup and – you wanted – you said you would name it after me – and I said that’s a horrible idea because who would want to have two Willows in the world,” she giggled slightly at the memory, but then began to sob again; it had barely been a month since he’d promised her that.</p><p>              “Cedric, you can’t leave me!” Willow tried to shout, her voice raw. “Cedric –“</p><p>              “Quiet, child!” Voldemort hissed suddenly from behind. It was then when Willow sat up, let go of Cedric’s hand and turned to see Voldemort, no longer a bundle in Crouch’s arms, but a human, or close enough to one, standing near a large, black cauldron that had been placed in the middle of the graveyard. Willow was absolutely livid. How dare he tell her to be quiet? He’d just had her friend killed and –</p><p>              “Why you little – come here!”</p><p>              She hadn’t been thinking about what she was doing, more or less allowing anger to control her movements, but she knew she had made a slight mistake as soon as Voldemort grabbed a tight hold of her arm; she had slapped him across the face, hard – a very bad idea indeed, but even so, this would not repel her from trying to fight against him.</p><p>              “Let go of me!” she demanded, spitting directly in his face. The man simply wiped the spit out of his face, smirking, before grabbing his wand and pressing it against the skin of Willow’s left forearm. She screamed almost automatically as the tip of the wand touched her skin, causing a white-hot burn to pulsate throughout her arm, eventually travelling through the veins in her arm to the rest of her body, as the Dark Mark formed. Once the wand was removed from her arm, and once Voldemort let go of her, she feel to the ground, shaking as she grasped her left arm in her hand; she was vaguely aware of the Death Eaters cropping up around the area, and how Voldemort was now pacing and talking to her brother.</p><p>              “Welcome, Death Eaters,” Voldemort welcomed seconds later, moving away from Harry. Willow looked up briefly to see him standing amidst a semicircle of masked men and women. “Thirteen years … thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we? I smell guilt. There is a stench of guilt upon the air. I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact – such prompt appearances! And I ask myself … why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?”</p><p>              Voldemort monologued for what felt like hours, and if Willow had been in a healthier emotional state, she would have likely sighed out of boredom and rolled her eyes, but instead she stayed, on the ground grasping her arm as silent tears fell down her face. She did, though, turn her head upon hearing a peculiar name.</p><p>              “Lucius, my slippery friend,” Voldemort whispered, stopping in front of one of the masked men. “I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius … your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay … but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?”</p><p>              Willow had to clasp her hands quickly over her mouth to stop herself from speaking. Eleven years she had lived with him, eleven years he had raised her as a daughter, fourteen years she had known him, and all this time he had <em>still </em>been a Death Eater? Worse even, <em>he </em>had been the one that started all the terrible things at the Cup! Had he conspired with Crouch this whole time, then? Did he know that Voldemort wanted Willow?</p><p>              “My Lord, I was constantly on the alert,” Lucius said. Willow could hear a slight air of nerve in his voice. “Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me –“</p><p>              “There were signs!” Voldemort yelled, angrily swiping the mask from Lucius’ face, and at that moment, Lucius caught sight of Willow, and his expression quite quickly turned to one of great fear.</p><p>              “What did you do to her?” Lucius demanded quietly. An inkling of hope was restored in Willow’s heart; he had no idea that Voldemort wanted Willow to join the Death Eaters after all, and as bad as the things he had done had been, even whilst Willow was in his care, he still loved her as a daughter, and as torn-up and broken as Willow was at the moment, she had to admit, this revelation made her feel slightly better about her current circumstances.</p><p>              “And I thought the rumours had no truth to them!” Voldemort cackled. “Yet, all this time it was you that cared for the girl instead of Severus!”</p><p>              “He left her on our doorstep in the middle of the night! She was practically dead when we found her – we had to take her in!” Willow shivered slightly upon hearing Lucius shout as he did. He had heard him shout before, but never with such ferocity as this, and to the Dark Lord of all people.</p><p>              “See her then, if you feel it so necessary for you to take care of the thing! But know this, Lucius, there will be punishment –“</p><p>              But Lucius did not care, instead, he ran straight to Willow where she sat on her knees by the cauldron and took her in his arms, just as he used to do whenever she’d had a fall in the garden, or when she’d been woken by nightmares, or when she’d come home crying from school after someone had made fun of her for not having any real parents.</p><p>              “I’m sorry,” Lucius whispered, holding the girl close and running his fingers through her hair as she began to sob once more, but she did not need to hear any apology from him. What he had done in that last minute was enough of an apology, for anything Lucius had done over the years, for Willow.</p><p>              “You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?” Voldemort hissed, suddenly making Willow aware of her surroundings again; she had gotten so lost in Lucius’ embrace that for a moment she had forgotten where she was – she’d forgotten that Cedric had just been killed minutes before, she’d forgotten she was stuck in a graveyard with her brother and the Dark Lord, she’d forgotten she was now a Death Eater.</p><p>              “You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him and his pathetic excuse of a sister – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen … I could not touch the boy. His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice … this is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it … but no matter. I can touch him now,” Voldemort explained, and Willow could hear the echoes of her brother’s screams as he touched him.</p><p>              “But it wasn’t –“ Willow began to whisper.</p><p>              “Shh,” Lucius shushed quickly, finally letting her go. “He’ll kill you if you say anything about that.”</p><p>              Once again, Voldemort began to monologue, and, as she was in a slightly better mood, Willow managed to perform a slight roll of the eyes, which in turn caused Lucius to welcome a slight smile on his face. She, too, smiled slightly back at him, quite thankful now that he was there, until she heard the bloodcurdling screams of her brother being tortured, and the Death Eaters – with the exception of Lucius – laughing with malicious joy.</p><p>              “You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?” Voldemort questioned as he unbound Harry from the same headstone Willow had been bound to at the beginning of the night. Willow stood and was about to run over to her brother, to help him up from the ground, when Lucius grabbed her arm strongly. She turned to look at him, to say something, but he simply shook his head and she understood; she would simply have to watch whatever unfolded next and trust that Harry didn’t get himself killed.</p><p>              “We bow to each other, Harry,” Voldemort said as soon as Harry was on his feet, the man and the boy both holding their wands tight in their hands. “Come, the niceties must be observed … Dumbledore would like you to show manners … bow to death, Harry.” But Harry stood his ground; he did not bow, and in a usual situation Willow would be quite proud of seeing Harry refusing to listen to someone, but this was not a usual situation, and this was not a situation where Potter stubbornness was a good thing, especially since Willow had pissed Voldemort off enough that night.</p><p>              “I said, bow,” Voldemort demanded, pointing his wand at Harry, forcing him into a bowing position. “Very good,” he said as Harry stood back up. “And now you face me, like a man … straight-backed and proud, the way your father died … and now – we duel!”</p><p>              Before Harry had a chance to even open his mouth, Voldemort hit him with another torture curse, and if Willow thought it was bad hearing her brother scream in such pain, it was even worse <em>seeing </em>it. His body fell straight to the ground and began to convulse violently as the spell hit him and all Willow wanted to do in that moment was to sprint over and get him out of that situation but doing such a thing would likely end up with the both of them being killed, and that was not something anyone needed.</p><p>              “A little break,” Voldemort said quite excitedly as he decided to retract his wand, Harry almost immediately jumping back up on his feet, albeit shaking uncontrollably, “a little pause … that hurt, didn’t it, Harry? You don’t want me to do that again, do you?” Harry stayed silent. “I asked you whether you want me to do that again. Answer me! Imperio!”</p><p>              “I won’t!” Harry yelled, louder than he had ever done before.</p><p>              “You won’t? You won’t say no? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die … perhaps another little dose of pain?”</p><p>              But Harry flung himself out of the way, falling to the ground and hiding behind the headstone.</p><p>              “We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry. You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now, Harry? Come out, Harry … come out and play, then … it will be quick … it might even be painless … I would not know … I have never died –“</p><p>              “Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted, popping up suddenly from behind the headstone, but Voldemort seemed to have been ready for this appearance, as, at the same time as Harry, he shouted the words, “Avada Kedavra!”</p><p>              It was one of the most fascinating things Willow had ever laid her eyes upon. The green and the red light collided, forming a narrow, gold-coloured beam of light that connected the two wands as Harry and Voldemort began to hover off the ground – Priori Incantatem, something Willow had only ever read about in books.</p><p>              Following that, a grey light began to leave the tip of Voldemort’s wand, separate to that of the gold, and within seconds it formed a translucent body – the body of Cedric.</p><p>              “Willow!” he shouted, a smile on his face. “You’ve been the bestest friend I could have ever asked for. Take my body back, alright? Make sure my parents get it back – I love you.”</p><p>              Willow nodded her head in promise, hands clasped over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing, and glanced quickly over at Cedric’s actual body, still laying limp on the ground by the headstone. Two more translucent figures escaped Voldemort’s wand – an old man and an older woman – before Willow almost screamed seeing the fourth victim.</p><p>              “Dad!” she exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as the tall figure, who looked so much like Harry, looked over at her, an identical smile on his face.</p><p>              “I’m proud of you, darling,” he said, the words filling Willow’s heart with so much joy that, once again, she had completely forgotten where exactly she was. “Say hello to Remus and Sirius for me, will you? Tell them I said thank you,” he instructed, before talking to Harry. Willow nodded again as a fifth body left the wand – a young woman, not much older than herself, with long red hair and bright green eyes and freckles all over her face and –</p><p>              “You’re so brave, my darling,” her mother smiled tearfully. “I love you so much, you remember that, alright?”</p><p>              “I love you too, Mummy,” Willow whispered, as more tears began to stream down her face. She was then quietly directed by her mother to wait by Cedric’s body before she began to speak quietly to Harry. Willow did as she was told, quickly bidding farewell to Lucius, who had still been kneeling beside her, before shakily making her way over to Cedric’s body. She laid a hand on one of his, the same she had been holding before; it had now gone cold, reminding Willow strongly of Ginny when she was close to death in the Chamber of Secrets two years prior.</p><p>              “Now!” Willow heard Harry yell. Quickly whipping her head around, she watched as Harry wrenched his wand away, breaking the connection between himself and Voldemort, and as he did such a thing, the figures of the strangers and their loved ones closed in on Voldemort, shielding Harry from his vision as best as possible.</p><p>              “Stun him!” Voldemort screamed as Harry dodged and weaved wildly around the different gravestones scattered around the place. Seeing one close in one him, Willow looked straight at the masked Death Eater, thought the incantation <em>Impedimenta </em>and on cue he was slowed to a halt. “Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!”</p><p>              But Voldemort, nor anyone was able to kill Harry, as he’d reached Cedric’s body, grabbed a tight hold of Willow’s free hand, assured that Willow was still holding tight onto Cedric’s body, before summoning the Triwizard Cup, catching it by the handle. One last, furious scream was heard echoing from Voldemort as they began to move wildly, before the two, Cedric’s body in tow, landed on the ground once more with a thump.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was wrong – the sounds that were echoing around the Quidditch Pitch – everyone cheering and clapping wildly, but they couldn’t see what was really going on. They couldn’t see, properly, Willow clutching Cedric’s body so tight that her knuckles were turning white; they couldn’t see, properly, Harry curled in a ball on his knees beside them rocking back and forth, his head in his hands as he shook, and over the deafening sound of the crowd, they couldn’t hear Willow’s screams of agony, or Harry’s pained sobbing. They couldn’t hear Willow begging for one of her best friend’s to return from the dead, they couldn’t hear Harry wishing for the same fate as Cedric.</p><p>              It was very sudden – the rush of footsteps as people made their way down, the sound of Amos Diggory, Cedric’s father, collapsing to the ground, wailing in disbelief. How could his only son, who had gone into the maze to win the Triwizard tournament only hours before, returned dead? And it was painful, the moment Remus and Sirius had managed to push through the crowd, yelling angrily for people to get out of the way, followed closely by George, because it meant that Willow would have to say goodbye; she wasn’t ready to let go yet.</p><p>              It was Harry that was taken first by Dumbledore and Sirius, the two of them having to grab an arm each and drag him, screaming and crying and flailing like a toddler having a tantrum, away from the crowd; they needed to know what exactly had happened after all, and so did Remus, so when he tried to take Willow into his arms, she fought him off as much as her body would let her; she was not ready to leave him yet.</p><p>              “Fuck off!” she screamed, as more and more people crowded around the area, the stadium no longer cheering or clapping, but rife with curiosity as to what the hell was going on, most students and professors gasping for air, some even screaming briefly as they saw the scene; Willow trying to fend her father off whilst her arms wrapped tighter around her best friend, said friend’s father grasping onto one of the boy’s hands, shaking uncontrollably and wailing with despair.</p><p>              It was George that managed to take Willow away in the end.</p><p>              “We’ve got to go, darling,” he spoke, quietly and calmly, neither of the two bothering to care in that moment that, technically speaking, they weren’t necessarily supposed to love one another, not the way they did anyway. Cautiously, he allowed a hand to fall on her back, rubbing it ever so softly as her screams died down and her sobbing began to slow. Finally her eyes opened, and George felt his heart crack in an instant once he saw the pain in her once bright eyes. “You’ll see him again, one day,” he whispered with promise, looking Willow in the now dull green eyes. She didn’t know what it was – she never knew what it was, for that matter, when it came to George – but somehow, seeing the soft brown of his eyes, and feeling the hand taking so much care as it trailed up and down her back, she managed to reach an appropriate level of calm, one that allowed her to say her final goodbyes to Cedric before collapsing into George’s arms.</p><p>              As if she were a delicate flower, he lifted her gently and held her close, and upon catching a glimpse at the black skull-and-snake on her left arm, he asked Remus for the coat he was always wearing; Remus obligingly covered Willow with the item, and if anyone asked, she was simply cold. For a second, on their way to the castle, they were stopped by Fred, who desperately tried to follow them, but George was quick to shove him off; he knew Willow wouldn’t want him knowing everything just yet.</p><p>              They were quick to arrive in Remus’ Living Quarters, Remus locking the door behind them as George laid the shaking Willow on the bed. She was paler than usual, and had an almost stunned look on her face, and her eyes were flickering feverishly side-to-side; George could see that she was trying to comprehend all that had happened, whatever had happened, wherever she and Harry had been.</p><p>              “Dad wanted me to say hello,” Willow murmured under her breath, glancing quickly to Remus, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.</p><p>              “You – you saw James?” he asked, his voice failing him once he said the name of his best friend.</p><p>              “He wanted to say thank you, to you and Sirius,” Willow said quietly, her voice shaking, “and Mum.” A smile dawned on her face. “I saw her too. She said I was brave and that she loved me, and Dad said he was proud of me and Cedric –“ She stopped suddenly and her smile disappeared, and the second of light that had appeared in her eyes quickly died out to be replaced once more by the dullness caused by the great amount of pain she was suffering. She did not cry, but she did not speak any more words, and at this, George sat down beside her on the bed, laid her head in his lap and ran his fingers through her hair.</p><p>              “You’ll be alright with her?” Remus questioned after a few minutes of silence. He knew Willow was likely to stay quiet for some time, and as much as Remus would have liked to stay, to make sure his daughter was okay, or, rather, as okay as she could be in her current state, there were things that needed to be sorted with Dumbledore, and arrangements needed to be made with Sirius about where potential headquarters could be for the second coming of the Order of the Phoenix, and if he could take Willow there as soon as possible.</p><p>              George nodded, and with a promise that he would see her soon, Remus left Willow in George’s comfort.</p><p>              “He came back, You-Know-Who,” Willow whispered as soon as Remus left the room, “and he –“</p><p>              “I know,” George muttered quietly. “I saw.”</p><p>              “Cedric told me he loved me,” Willow said, her voice strained as she slowly eased herself into a sitting position. She did not look at George though, instead focusing her eyes on a bit of loose thread in the carpet by the dresser. “Platonically, of course. That’s when I knew though – that he was really – because he never said it – always showed it – like you.”</p><p>              “Willow?” George spoke quietly, inching closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “What happened?”</p><p>              At first, George had thought he had overstepped a mark, as as soon as he had asked the almighty question, the girl began to weep again, but she stopped after a few seconds, deciding to collect herself for a few minutes as she explained to him what happened, starting that evening before the third task had begun.</p><p>              By the time George had listened to all Willow had to say, he was on the verge of tears himself. How in the world could a fourteen-year-old suffer through all that? Why did she have to?</p><p>              “I miss him,” Willow sighed, wiping tears from her eyes. “He looked so scared,” she recalled, “and there was so many things he wanted to do, like name his first kid after me. Wouldn’t know why he’d want to do that of course; one Willow’s enough.” She smiled only a hint of a smile before moving to lay down on the bed. “Stay with me, will you?”</p><p>              “Forever,” George said, laying down beside her and holding her close. He never wanted to let go of her again, especially not after all that had happened that night. If he did, he feared he may lose her again, and he could never live with himself if that happened.</p><p>              Willow awoke a few hours later, unusually alert and aware of her surroundings, the sunlight of the early summer morning streaming into the room. She panicked, for a moment, upon noticing that she was no longer in George’s arms; for that matter, he wasn’t even laid down beside her.</p><p>              “It’s alright, I haven’t left,” George assured, Willow sitting bolt upright at the sound of his voice, to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, holding out a long-sleeved shirt for her. “I thought it would be useful. You didn’t have any so I’ve got some of mine for you.”</p><p>              A small, thankful smile on her face, Willow took the shirt and changed into it, although with great difficulty, finding it hard to do even such a menial task as this. George ended up having to get up after she’d put her head through the shirt, to help her get her arms through the sleeves before sitting back down, albeit beside her now.</p><p>              “Dad come back?” Willow asked quietly, her voice hoarse from all the screaming and sobbing and crying she’d endured hours beforehand.</p><p>              “For a minute, to check if you were alright. Think it was about two or so hours ago, at four,” George answered. “That’s when I went to get the shirt. He said he’s sorry he couldn’t be here at the moment; they’re trying to get the Order up and running again as quick as possible.”</p><p>              “And Fred?”</p><p>              “Angry, which I guess is understandable,” George said, remembering how he’d shoved Fred away so harshly when he and Remus were taking Willow back up to the castle. “Had a go at me this morning when I came to get the shirt – said it was unfair that I get to know about everything that’s going on while he’s being left in the dark. I said he’d know soon enough.”</p><p>              “If he was more like you I’d be more willing to say something,” Willow said quite matter-of-factly.</p><p>              “Meaning?”</p><p>              “Well, I had a talk with Cedric last month, before the third task was announced. He asked the same thing, why I hadn’t told Fred, I mean, so not really the same thing, but, anyway – I said you’re more of a listen and think unlike Fred who’s more of a talk now, think later,” Willow explained. George hummed agreeably in response. He hadn’t really thought about it much, but he couldn’t disagree with what she had said; he did much prefer to hear the full details of something and think on it, rather than Fred who was, more often than not, either jumping to conclusions or allowing for emotion to take over first instead of logic.</p><p>              “Anyway,” Willow said, changing topics, “where’s Harry? How is he?”</p><p>              “Sirius put him up in the Hospital Wing last night,” George informed. “He was given a Sleeping Draught. I was half-tempted to ask if you wanted one but you were already asleep by the time I was going to. I’m sure he’d be awake at the moment, if you want to see him, make sure he’s alright.”</p><p>              Willow took George up on the offer, and together the two left to see Harry in the Hospital Wing, not before leaving a note at the door first, of course, informing Remus where they were if he came back any time before they did.</p><p>              Upon their arrival, they could see that Harry was still asleep, and that Sirius, in his dog form, was curled up at the end of the bed with him; that was until he saw Willow enter the Hospital Wing of course, at which point he slowly clambered off the bed, careful not to awaken Harry, turned human and took her into a relieved embrace.</p><p>              “You alright?” he whispered into her ear.</p><p>              “Alright as I can be,” Willow answered, prompting a nod of the head from Sirius before she excused herself from the embrace to look at her brother. He looked fairly peaceful as he slept, although Willow knew that was only due to the Sleeping Draught he had been provided with.</p><p>              “How’s he?” she asked, still struggling to speak.</p><p>              “For the moment he’s, well, he’s okay as he can be, I suppose.”</p><p>              “Did he tell you,” Willow began, “that we saw –“</p><p>              “Lily and James, yes, he did,” Sirius sighed, sitting down carefully on the end of the bed. Willow saw him blink rapidly for a few seconds; he was trying to stop himself from crying.</p><p>              “Dad wanted me to say hello. He also said thank you,” Willow relayed, holding a hand out for Sirius to grab. He did so, squeezing it for a brief moment before letting go and looking up at his daughter. God, how much she looked like her mother.</p><p>              “We’ll have to be off soon – as soon as he wakes up,” Sirius said, standing up again. “I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.”</p><p>              Nodding, Willow left the Hospital Wing with George, both silent as they made their way to Willow’s dormitory, to pack her things, ready to go, and as she did, she couldn’t help but think about just how much everything was going to change; a war was coming, and there was nothing that could stop it from happening, nor was there anything able to stop her from having to fight on both sides.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was strange, that evening, coming home. Not even a day ago she was excited to return; she’d missed all her books – she still had so many to read. Now, though, she wanted to be anywhere but home. She couldn’t exactly explain why; maybe because, almost a whole year before, this was where it had all started with Harry having that first premonition, or perhaps it was because home, to Willow, had always been a very happy place – a place to be happy – and she was feeling the complete opposite of that emotion; it almost felt wrong to be there.</p><p>              She did not enter the house, instead trusting Sirius in getting all that was needed for herself, himself, Remus and Harry. Instead she sat on the steps of the front door, head rested on the arms folded on her knees. She huffed angrily; her mind wouldn’t stop wondering to Cedric, to the events that had happened barely twenty hours before. Over and over, it kept repeating itself in her mind, his death that is; the fear in his eyes as the spell was muttered, the pained expression on his face as the spell hit him and the realisation that he was barely a second away from death, the way his body fell in almost an archlike motion.</p><p>              She didn’t want to keep thinking about it. If she had things her way, she would have forgotten it by now; she could only recall one time in her life when she’d cried almost as much as she had in the last hours, and even then that didn’t compare to the amount of tears she’d shed that day. She was five, the last time she’d cried like this, when one of the Malfoys’ cats, a beautiful, long-haired, blue and white girl named Ophelia, had died of old age. Willow had been very close with her, often having the cat come sleep with her during the night, and her death had pained Willow for a very long time – she still sometimes mourned for the cat – but even something as that couldn’t have prepared Willow for what she had had to see, for what she had had to suffer.</p><p>              It felt like forever ago now, since she’d first met Cedric, even though it had only been barely three years. She half-smiled, remembering the moment; how she’d been tripped in the corridor and how all her books had spilled all over the place. She was already feeling under the weather when it had happened, considering Professor McGonagall had just told her she was to be adopted by her godfather at the time and that she would no longer be living with the Malfoys, the only family she’d ever known. A brief scowl fell across her face remembering the laughter from all the students on their way to the Great Hall, but the smile returned when she remembered hearing Cedric’s voice permeating throughout the crowd, telling them all kindly to shut up before helping Willow with her books and inviting her to the Hufflepuff team’s Quidditch practice; she hoped that when the new year started she would still be allowed to attend such a thing so that, as distraught as she was, she would still be able to remember Cedric on a weekly occasion – she never wanted to forget him.</p><p>              “Ready?” Sirius asked, snapping Willow from her thoughts as he closed and locked the front door, trunks full of clothes and whatever else they all needed already propped up beside it, waiting to be moved.</p><p>              “I don’t know,” Willow replied honestly as Sirius sat down beside her. “Sirius, how did you feel when Mum and Dad died?”</p><p>              Sirius sighed and took in a breath; he never thought he’d have to answer such a question before. He didn’t entirely want to considering he would have to force himself to remember that time; James’ body on the floor at the front door and Lily’s by the crib, looks of fear forever engrained on their faces. But Willow needed the answer; she’d just suffered her own loss, easily comparable to that of James and Lily, and to make it all the more terrible, she had to witness it and she was barely fourteen.</p><p>              “I suppose similar to the way you feel now,” Sirius began, laying a hand on Willow’s head and beginning to lightly stroke her hair. “I didn’t have all too much time to comprehend it all; I don’t think I ever fully processed it until I was back here again. I was shocked at first, when I’d finally realised – because my first priority was to get you and Harry out of there – I never noticed James at the door, not until Remus said something about it. Felt like it was my fault, of course – I was the one that suggested a change in Secret Keepers after all – and it’s taken quite a bit of time for me to understand that what happened was more or less out of my control.”</p><p>              “I don’t want you to think any of this is your fault,” Sirius said, looking Willow in the eyes. “You might not feel it yet, but at some point this week, maybe even tomorrow, you might start to feel that way – but I want you to know, Willow, that none of this is your fault, alright?”</p><p>              Willow nodded, listening intently to every word he said.</p><p>              “All the fault lies on that horrible excuse for a man –“</p><p>              “You know, I hit him,” Willow cut in proudly; terrifying as it was to look back on, considering the fact that it could have killed her, she was quite impressed at what she had done.</p><p>              “Excuse me, you did what now?” Sirius questioned, suddenly coming to a stop, no longer stroking his daughter’s hair, a look of wild disbelief on his face.</p><p>              “He pissed me off too much so I slapped him. Oh, and I spit in his face,” Willow explained smiling perhaps her first full smile in the last twenty-four hours.</p><p>              “I’ll have to get onto the Ministry – deserve an Order of Merlin for that. You know, I think you’re the only one that’s ever managed to do that,” Sirius said still surprised yet all the while proud of what Willow had done. “Don’t do it again though –“</p><p>              “I wouldn’t, not now, anyway,” Willow assured before the two went silent again, Sirius leaning back against the rails of the stairs and pulling a cigarette from his pocket before lighting it and sticking it in his mouth. Willow was almost half-tempted to ask if she could have one, although thought better of it, considering her age.</p><p>              “Where are we going anyway?” Willow asked a few moments later as Sirius blew out a great waft of smoke. He sat up again, scraping the end of the cigarette on the concrete step to put it out before giving his answer.</p><p>              “London, where I grew up,” he said. “Twelve Grimmauld Place in Islington –“</p><p>              “That’s only a few doors down from where Emma grew up.”</p><p>              “Yes. She’d come round for the Christmas parties with her parents and her older brother. It’ll be good to see her again – I think the last time I saw her was when she was a few months off turning three. It was my last Christmas there and she and Jacob, her brother, had come up to hide out with me in my bedroom.”</p><p>              “Why?”</p><p>              “Well, we didn’t have the nicest parents in the world. Fortunately, both mine are dead. Hers aren’t though but she hasn’t talked to them in a while from what I’ve heard.”</p><p>              “I don’t think she’s seen her mother since she was fifteen so –“</p><p>              “Mm. And she’s, what, twenty-two now?”</p><p>              “Yeah,” Willow said, lifting her head up finally. “Did you say we’d see her again?”</p><p>              Sirius hummed agreeably in response then explained, “She’ll be joining the Order, along with all her other school friends.”</p><p>              “Who are they?” Willow asked; she wanted to know who they were, or at least their names, before she formally met them.</p><p>              “You’ll meet these ones tomorrow – you’ll have to talk to them, see, about what happened but Remus and I will be there if you need anything,” Sirius began. “There’s Penny, Ben, Merula, Talbott, Barnaby, Chiara, Skye –“</p><p>              “I’ve seen them before,” Willow remembered. “They were helping Charlie with the dragons for the first task.”</p><p>              “So I’d heard,” Sirius said with a smile. “There’s also my cousin, Tonks –“</p><p>              “I’ve met her!” Willow exclaimed. “She helped Dad and I with directions at the Ministry, and I heard she was there to help take Peter away last year.”</p><p>              “Yes, with Mad-Eye – he’ll be there tomorrow, too. She fancies him, you know? I mean, Tonks and Re–“</p><p>              “I know.”</p><p>              “I don’t think they’d make too bad of a pairing, but that’s all up to Remus of course, if he wants to be in another relationship. Think I’ll put in a good word for them though – I don’t want Remus to be alone, especially not now at this time. He’ll need someone to keep him steady.”</p><p>              Having been reminded of Remus’ emotions, Willow thought back to the outburst he had had back in January, when he’d told Willow about the whole divorce situation. Quite curiously, she decided to ask Sirius if this was something that had ever happened before or if she’d witnessed something new.</p><p>              “It’s been some time, that I know of, since he’s had a meltdown like that,” Sirius informed honestly, elaborating once he’d seen the confused look on Willow’s face, likely due to the word he’d used. “Muggle term. He’s wired different in the head to you and me, see? Reacts a bit differently to some things. Doesn’t usually mention it to anyone – doesn’t want to be treated any differently, not that he needs to be – and most people don’t usually notice it until they see something like that, but he’s better at managing his meltdowns now.”</p><p>              “Your dad was similar, different wiring, I mean,” Sirius added. “Two different things the two were born with though. It’s all actually quite interesting, honestly, when you look into it. Wouldn’t have known such things even existed.”</p><p>              “I never noticed anything different about either of them,” Willow said thoughtfully. The only thing Willow could possibly think of that could have been slightly odd about Remus was his constant pacing, although, Willow was one to frequently do such a thing too.</p><p>              “Well, they’re not different are they? I mean, <em>technically</em> they are, but –“</p><p>              “I get it.” Willow leaned her head against the rails, her mind having trailed back to Cedric once more. “Do I have to tell them? What happened, I mean?” she asked quietly, starting to shake slightly.</p><p>              “Like I said, Willow,” Sirius said, moving to sit beside the girl, “Remus and I will be there.”</p><p>              “I haven’t even told him what happened yet,” Willow admitted. “I only told George.”</p><p>              “That’s alright, Harry hasn’t said much either,” Sirius comforted. “Anyway,” he sighed, standing up and levitating the trunks, “should probably head off now. They’ll be waiting for us.”</p><p>              With a nod, Willow slowly managed to get onto her feet, quickly wiping away a stray tear as she did. She stepped down off the stairs and turned round for a moment.</p><p>              The cottage had not changed much since she first got there two and a half years ago. The windows still held a light layer of dust over them, and edges of some of the stones on the walls were beginning to crack. The door still creaked violently; she had heard it when Sirius entered and exited the house. Perhaps the only change that had been made was how it looked on the inside.</p><p>              She could still remember how it looked when she first began to live there, how dishevelled and broken and empty it all was, and she remembered how she had felt so disgusted having suddenly gone from living in the lap of luxury to what was to her, at the time, reminiscent of a dumping ground; a sheer difference to how she felt about the house now. Now of course it had been a place of joy and a complete sense of comfort to her, dust and cracked walls included.</p><p>              With one last sigh, a silent goodbye, almost, to the place she had called home for so long now, she followed Sirius down to the end of the street, held onto his hand tight, and then they were gone.</p><p>Everything was going to change now; the war had begun.</p>
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